


The Uncrowned King

by Talis_Borne



Series: Nimueh’s Spell [10]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Knows, BAMF Merlin, BAMF Morgana, Bromance, Canon Divergence, Gen, Major character death - Freeform, Soul Bond, post series 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5305352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talis_Borne/pseuds/Talis_Borne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is not ready to reign.  No one could ever be ready.  And yet he is.  His Father has trained him well.  But Arthur is not Uther and change is difficult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you need to know what major character dies before you read this, skip to the End Note on Chapter 2.
> 
> I don’t own the rights to the Merlin TV series and I’m not intending to make any money off these stories. This is strictly for sharing between friends.

Arthur walked into his quarters clenching his teeth against pain, relieved to finally be in private and anxious to get his armor off. Merlin was standing on a chair, mending a popped seam at the top of the window curtain. Arthur ignored him and stepped behind the dressing screen. He unbuckled his belt, dropping it to the floor, and then stood for a moment trying to figure out how to get his armor off by himself. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem, though it was easier with help. Finally, Arthur decided to let gravity help him and bent over, pulling his armor off with his left hand and trying to ignore the pain in his back and right arm. A moan of pain, which Arthur hoped was too quiet for Merlin to hear, hissed through his teeth. 

Arthur stood up to find Merlin standing in front of him, arms folded across his chest, and looking annoyed. "Are you going to tell me what you've done to yourself, or are you going to make me guess?" asked the servant peevishly. 

"Leave me alone," said Arthur crankily. 

"You see, that's how I know you're hurt, though probably more in pride than in body. If you were fit and you'd won your matches you would have been roaring at me to stop playing with the curtains and help you with your armor. But because you're hurt, you don't want anybody to know, and you're trying to do everything yourself. And probably making things worse." 

"I did win my matches and I'm fine," insisted Arthur. "And I have a council meeting." 

"The meeting's not for half an hour and they can't start without you anyway," Merlin deadpanned. "Now are you going to let me see to your injury, or should we spend the time arguing about it?" 

"I don't need," Arthur spluttered and wiggled his fingers at Merlin, "magic." 

Merlin leaned toward him. "Wasn't planning on it. Unless you've managed to tear those muscles you're favoring, which you've done once or twice in the past and you never want to take the time to let them heal properly." Arthur grimaced at that and Merlin rolled his eyes. "Let me check, for pity's sake. You'll feel better if you know than if you worry about it." Stepping forward, Merlin reached for Arthur. "Let me get your shirt off." 

Arthur allowed his servant to slip his gambeson down his arms and pull his shirt over his head, complaining all the while, "You are a worse nag than any of my tutors, or my old nurse, or my Father, or anyone I know." 

Snatching up a towel and roughly scrubbing the sweat from Arthur's torso, Merlin replied, "Yes, well, I get nagging lessons from Gaius along with having to learn every property of every herb he's ever heard of. Come on." Merlin's hands landed on Arthur's shoulders and he pushed the Prince around the screen and towards his bed. Merlin spread the towel over the quilt and Arthur laid down on his stomach, his head pillowed on his left arm, his right stretching out to the side, muscles tensing and releasing, trying for relief from the pain of overuse. 

Merlin took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He reached across Arthur's body and took hold of his wrist, expertly beginning to feel down his master's arm for the extent of the injury. Taking great care around a darkening bruise on Arthur's upper arm, he felt all around the shoulder joint, then went on to his back. Arthur winced and grunted when he reached a point just over the shoulder blade. Merlin rotated Arthur's arm slightly, feeling the area, then up his neck and down at an angle to his mid back. "How did you manage to do this?" asked Merlin quietly. 

"Bout with Gwaine," mumbled Arthur. "He is quick." 

Merlin ran a hand over Arthur's ribcage out to his side. "Well, I didn't feel anything to indicate a tear. I think it's just over stretched. How's your chest?" 

"Pain's all in my back and shoulder and my arm where he bashed me," replied Arthur resentfully. 

"Yes, you're going to have a spectacular bruise there," confirmed Merlin opening a drawer in the bureau next to Arthur's bed and taking out two squat jars. Removing the lid of the first, he dipped two fingers into the faintly green salve and began rubbing it slowly but firmly into the worst of Arthur's hurt. Arthur blew out a breath in relief under Merlin's ministrations. Merlin ran the salve up his neck, covering the top of his shoulder and down his spine, thoroughly working the trapezius muscle. 

Arthur relaxed under the soothing feeling of strong hands massaging his back. He wondered how a salve could feel warm and cool at the same time, wondered briefly if it was magic, but decided not as he could remember Gaius using the same thing on him before Merlin had come to Camelot. 

Merlin wiped the residue from his fingers on the towel Arthur was laying on. He switched to a woodsy spicy smelling oil from the second jar and worked that into Arthur's ribs, the joint of his shoulder and down his arm. As he worked, he put one knee up on the bed so he could reach further over the Prince and keep the pressure even. "I should teach Guinevere how to give you a proper rub down," said Merlin nonchalantly. 

Arthur instantly stiffened. "I would never ask her." 

Unperturbed, Merlin continued rubbing in the oil. "Well, maybe after you're married. You might put up with her better than me." 

Arthur closed his eyes. "Merlin, what are you babbling about? You know I can't marry Guinevere." 

"This summer," affirmed Merlin. "I've been wondering when you were going to ask her." 

Arthur turned over and sat up. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. 

"Your wedding," said Merlin firmly, tucking Arthur's hand under his arm, so he could finish massaging the Prince's arm and shoulder joint. 

"Merlin, I am not getting married," said Arthur, his eyes flashing angrily. 

"If you say so," mumbled Merlin with a shrug. 

Arthur stared at his servant a moment, remembering that Merlin was actually a powerful sorcerer and might know something he didn't. "All right, what makes you think I'm getting married this summer?" 

"Saw it in the crystals," replied Merlin, refusing to look at his master. 

"What crystals?" growled Arthur, sensing this was important and trying desperately to maintain enough patience to wring sense out of his servant. 

Merlin sighed and dropped his hands from Arthur's arm. "When you sent me to Taliesin he insisted I look in the crystals. I don't like to do it because they show me pretty dire events in the future. But they did show me one nice thing this time, and that was your wedding." Arthur looked stricken and Merlin added confused, "What's wrong with that?" 

"Merlin! I can't marry Guinevere because my Father will never approve. If I'm to marry Guinevere this summer, then it means my Father will die, soon!" Merlin bit his lip and Arthur seized him by the shoulders, shaking him. "I can't choose between them. How is my Father going to die?" 

"I don't know, Arthur. I didn't see that," whined Merlin. 

"Well, go back and find out!" demanded Arthur, pushing Merlin to his feet. 

"I don't know how," stammered Merlin. "I can't control what the crystals show me. I just see whatever's in them." 

Arthur blew out a breath, frantically trying to think of some way to protect his Father. He needed information. Merlin could probably get it, if he could figure out how. He kept his voice slow and as patient as the desperate edge leaking from his thoughts allowed. "You went to Taliesin to find out about the dream. You said the price of that knowledge would be that he would teach you something. Was he trying to teach you how to use the crystals?" 

Merlin's head bobbed loosely on his neck. "But I'm no good at it, Arthur. Taliesin thinks I should be a seer, but I can't dictate what the crystals show me. And even if I did know how Uther is going to die, that doesn't mean I could stop it. I couldn't stop the things I saw before. Well, most of them." 

Arthur got up and wrapped his unhurt arm around Merlin's shoulder. "But we could try. If we knew how Father was going to die, maybe we could find some way to prevent it." Merlin grimaced at him so Arthur offered heartily, "Come on, we'll go together." Arthur released Merlin and hastened to take a clean shirt from his wardrobe. 

"You have a council meeting!" objected Merlin. 

"The council can go hang, this is more important," insisted Arthur. 

Merlin spluttered, "But if we leave this late, we won't get back until tomorrow. How do you know that that isn't exactly how Morgana manages to get to Uther?" 

"How do you know that it's Morgana who kills Father?" asked Arthur, pulling the shirt over his head with a wince and retrieving his belt. 

"I don't." 

"Merlin, we can't do anything without information, if we have to go somewhere to get it, then let's go." 

"Wait, wait. There might be a faster way." 

"Faster is better," said Arthur, staring intently at his servant. 

Merlin avoided his eyes. "There's a crystal in the vault. I could use that and Taliesin really isn't that helpful." 

Arthur strode purposefully past Merlin to retrieve his keys from the bureau beside the bed, buckling on his belt as he went. Then he turned and caught Merlin by the arm, half dragging him to the door but releasing his hold as they stepped through it. They clattered down four flights of stairs to the deepest of the dungeons, Merlin following closely, if reluctantly. They passed a guard, who gave Merlin a hard eyed stare as Arthur unlocked the wrought iron entrance to the vaults, but went back to staring straight ahead when the Prince closed the gate behind them. As soon they were out of sight of the guard, Arthur asked, "Where?" and Merlin took the lead. 

"There," said Merlin, waving a hand at the Crystal of Neahtid where it lay on red velvet pillow. 

"This?" asked Arthur, weighing it in his hand. "I remember having to retrieve this from some renegade druids." 

"Yeah," agreed Merlin nervously, his face contorted with distress at the memory. "That was the first time it showed me the future." 

Arthur held the crystal out to his servant. "Do you have to say some magic words to make it work?" 

"No," said Merlin, wetting a mouth gone dry, his eyes fixed on a point past the crystal. "I just have to look in it." But he made no move to do so. 

Arthur looked his servant over appraisingly and dropped the crystal back on its cushion. "You're afraid of it," said the Prince, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Merlin burst out, "Yes, Arthur, I'm afraid of it! It shows me horrible things, things I can't stop, things I end up being responsible for." The sorcerer covered his face with rigidly clawed hands. 

Arthur took Merlin by the wrists, pulling his hands down and trying to catch his eyes. "I may not know much about magic, but I do know about control. You can't control something you're afraid of; not a sword, not a horse, not a man." Arthur turned Merlin to face the crystal using his left more than his right, and rested his hands on his sorcerer's shoulders, willing confidence into him. "That is a tool in your hands. It does not have control over you any more than my sword controls me." The Prince scooted up close behind him and crooned in his sorcerer's ear, "It is your fear that's been controlling your visions. That's why it shows you terrible things. Give up fear. Take the crystal and have it show you nothing." 

"Nothing?" trembled Merlin. 

"Nothing," confirmed Arthur. "The crystal obeys your will." Merlin reached out a tentative hand and Arthur commanded, "Stop." 

Irritated, Merlin complained, "You just said…" 

"I just said to give up fear," growled Arthur. "If you must fear something, then fear me because I assure you I am going to be miserable to live with if my Father dies." 

"I don't need a crystal to tell me that," replied Merlin wryly. 

Arthur took it as a good sign that his servant could make any kind of a joke. He squeezed Merlin's shoulders and directed, "Take a deep breath. Release your anxiety as you blow it out. Touch the crystal without fear. See only the crystal itself. It will show you nothing because you command it." 

Merlin did as he was bid and took a calming breath before once again reaching out to take the crystal in his hand. Examining it, he saw only the hard planes of the translucent stone. Merlin smiled in relief. "Nothing. You're a better teacher than Taliesin." 

"Put it down again," commanded Arthur, and Merlin obeyed. "This time have it show you my Father's death. Only that and nothing else." 

"Oh, Arthur…" protested Merlin. 

Arthur's hands tightened on Merlin's shoulders. "Only that and nothing else," he repeated. 

Merlin paused a moment before speaking some words in a language Arthur didn't know. The sorcerer craned his head forward, but didn't pick the stone up this time. He shook his head slowly. 

"Didn't you see it?" asked Arthur, trying to keep impatience out of his voice. 

Merlin shrugged under the Prince's hands. "He grabbed his chest and fell to the floor. That was all." 

"Was anyone with him?" 

"No, he was alone." 

"Try again," commanded the Prince in frustration. "Look for the cause." 

"Arthur, that could have been a completely natural heart attack. We both know the King is fragile right now." 

"Check," grated Arthur. 

"If it's natural, I'm not sure the crystal can show me anything," grumbled the sorcerer, but he snatched it up again. Merlin took a breath and again spoke some words Arthur couldn't understand. Almost immediately Merlin gasped and stumbled. 

'Only Merlin could stumble while standing still,' thought Arthur, wrapping his arms around his friend's chest and dragging him down into a seated position before he could fall. Shivers convulsed through Merlin's body. Alarmed, Arthur poured encouragement into the sorcerer's ear. "No fear, Merlin. The vision can't harm you. It's under your control, so control it, damn it." 

The crystal rolled from Merlin's fingers and he slumped, panting as hard as if he'd just raced from the bottom of the castle to the top. "That wasn't the future," he gasped. "That was the past." 

*********************

Morgana stood at the edge of the lake, a stiff breeze ruffling her hair and stirring the dark forest. She raised her arms to the half moon and chanted in a language old enough to make one wonder if it had existed before humans spoke in more than grunts. Lights appeared above the lake, zipping through the air in a patternless dance. Morgana dropped her arms and called in a voice ringing with authority, "I, Morgana, Priestess of the Triune Goddess summon the ancient people, called 'the good folk' by those who fear their anger and the Sidhe by those who would meet them as equals." 

One of the lights came to an abrupt halt before her, revealing a woman only inches high with green skin and translucent wings, dressed in leather skirt and vest with the finest lace peeking out at sleeves and hem. "You are not our equal, mortal, no matter what airs you give yourself. Begone, before you arouse our ire with your presumption." 

Morgana's lips pursed, but she dropped a shallow curtsey. "I would be dead already if I had not aroused somewhat the famous Sidhe curiosity. I come to offer an alliance against a plague upon this land. Uther Pendragon seeks to eradicate magic from Albion forever." 

The fairy scoffed, "Uther Pendragon is mortal and will die soon enough, as all your short-lived species do." 

"And when he does, Arthur will take his place. People may die quickly, but dynasties can last for centuries and the founder of this one has dedicated it to the annihilation of all magic." 

The Sidhe's brow furrowed. "Uther Pendragon can not hope to succeed. Arthur Pendragon concerns us more. As a creature of magic himself, if he should dedicate himself to his father's aims, he might well rid the isle of any magic outside of his own." 

"Arthur is a creature of magic?" yelped Morgana loosing any semblance of serenity to the shock of that claim. 

The fairy chuckled cruelly. "Did you not know this, Priestess? What good are you if you lack even the ability to see the obvious?" 

Morgana drew herself up regally. "Arthur is not a sorcerer." 

"I did not say he was. I said he was a creature of magic and so he is. I think you will find this out to your detriment." The fairy began to pull back from Morgana. 

"Wait!" cried the Lady. "This only makes my argument even more urgent! Uther and Arthur must both be destroyed before the ruin of magic can be accomplished. I found a spell, ancient and formidable. One tear from a Shide for each of them and they would both die instantly. No power could save them." 

The fairy woman cocked her head to one side, thought for a moment and replied, "The Shide have our own plans for Arthur. One way or another, his power will be added to our own." 

"Truly?" asked Morgana, barely containing her sarcasm. "Do you think you can cage him and keep him as a pet?" 

"Not a pet, Woman, a sacrifice," replied the fairy scornfully. "We have our plans and we will catch him yet." 

Thinking quickly, Morgana asked, "Wouldn't such a sacrifice be more potent if Arthur were an anointed King?" 

"It would," allowed the fairy. 

"Then at least give me the means to destroy Uther, before he does any further damage. That will make Arthur King and more valuable to you." 

The fairy shrugged indolently. "Uther destroys human magic. This is nothing to us. And Arthur will be King eventually anyway. What you offer is worthless." 

"What would you have then?" demanded Morgana. "You wouldn't have wasted this much time on a mortal if there wasn't something you wanted." 

The fairy's tiny eyes narrowed until they looked like they were closed. "The Prince's servant." 

"Merlin?" asked Morgana disbelievingly. "You want Merlin?" 

The fairy's eyes snapped open and blazed with anger. "One of our clan chiefs went to remove him when he became an obstacle to our plans. He didn't return. Something must have protected the boy. It could not have been Arthur. No mortal would be quick enough to destroy a Sidhe, even if he wielded a weapon with that power. Whatever protected this 'Merlin,' we would teach it that it is useless to defy the Sidhe." 

"I had my own plans for Merlin," purred Morgana dangerously. "But I could be convinced to set them aside in favor of your claim." 

"Very well," said the fairy slyly. "You must deliver him to us within one year if you would keep us as 'allies.' After that, we will assume your word is false and listen to nothing you have to say. Indeed, if you come here again without him, you may find yourself at the bottom of our lake." 

"Agreed," growled Morgana, pulling on a leather thong hidden in her hair. A tiny drawstring bag popped from her bodice and from that, Morgana removed a jar no larger than the fingernail on her pinky. Pulling the stopper from the jar, she held it out to the fairy woman. "One tear, please?" 

The fairy held the jar to her face and allowed a tear to fall inside. Fluttering her wings so that she flew backwards, she admonished, "Remember, Morgana, this puts you in our debt. And the Sidhe always collect their debts." Then the fairy blazed away and the other lights over the lake vanished. 

Morgana held the jar up to the moonlight. "This will be enough," she seethed, "for both of them." 

*********************

Still kneeling on the stone floor, Arthur listened intently as Merlin described the scene the crystal had shown him. Meager tears flowed unchecked down the sorcerer's face, but at least he wasn't sobbing, just a little dazed and breathless. 

"Ah, I need to get to my books, Arthur. Find out more about Sidhe magic. See what a tear could do." Merlin started to rise, slipped before he managed to get his feet under him and knocked his knee on the stone. 

"There isn't time, and you already know," said Arthur firmly. 

"What?" asked Merlin, confusion stopping him from trying again to leave. 

"You already saw how Father dies, so you know what the spell does. Now how do you defend against it?" 

"I don't know, Arthur," insisted Merlin. "I need to study." 

"There's no time," persisted Arthur, grabbing Merlin by the arm. "You don't run for a book on strategy in the middle of a battle. Morgana's already got the tear. She could strike at any moment. You've got to come up with a defense now." Merlin spluttered and Arthur shook him. "Stop and think," commanded the Prince. What do you know right now? Morgana's planning to kill both me and my Father. But you saw me getting married this summer, so the spell won't kill me. Why?" 

"Maybe she changes her mind," faltered Merlin. 

"Morgana hates me; she's not changing her mind. Why doesn't the spell kill me?" demanded Arthur. 

Merlin's eyes darted back and forth, seeing nothing, as he struggled to find some answer to satisfy Arthur. "The spell, Nimueh's spell, it gives you a measure of protection. You're soul bonded to so many knights, a spell like that, that just causes an effect without a physical manifestation, would splinter so that each took a measure of the damage. You're still going to take the greatest part though." 

"All right, good," said Arthur, strategizing hastily. "Is there any way you could deflect the spell so I took my Father's portion as well?" 

Shocked, Merlin gasped, "What? No. And even if I could; what good would it do to trade your life for your father's? Who would take over the kingdom? Agravaine? We know he's working for Morgana. Uther would be dead in a week." 

"All right, what about soul bonding some of the other knights to Uther?" asked Arthur impatiently. 

"I don't know magic like that, Arthur!" cried Merlin. "And even if I did, it's not something that can be done hastily. With adults, I'm not even sure it can be done without their consent." 

"Well, I consent. What would it take?" snapped Arthur. 

"In your case there's already a bond, because you're Uther's child." Merlin faltered, "I might be able to strengthen it to give Uther some defense against magic, but there's only one of you, it won't splinter much and it may not be enough." 

Arthur pounced, "Could you devise a spell to splinter the damage among all of my Father's children?" 

"So that Morgana felt it too? That would be at least some just deserts. That still only splinters it two ways." 

"Three, perhaps more," declared Arthur. 

"Three?" asked Merlin, his brows rising in surprise. 

Arthur clamored to his feet, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "I don't actually know how many children my Father has, but Kay is his son." 

"Hard on Kay, if we do this," said Merlin getting slowly to his feet. "He'll get hit three times by the spell." 

"Three?" 

Merlin tilted his head side to side. "For you, your father and you again. But none of those is likely to be nearly what you take the first time around. I don't like this, Arthur. I have no way of knowing how powerful Morgana's spell is. Doing this could strengthen the spell against you such that it kills you." 

"That's a risk I'm willing to take. How soon can you perform the spell to protect Father?" 

"A few hours." 

"Hours? Merlin there's no time!" Arthur reminded him, clenching his fists in frustration. 

"I think there is," said Merlin, suddenly steady and calm. "Morgana uses Goddess magic which depends heavily on the phases of the moon. Any major working she does is likely to be done at the full moon or dark of the moon. The full moon is tonight, but it doesn't rise for a few hours yet and won't be at it's zenith until nearly midnight, which does make this an excellent night for Morgana to be making mischief." 

"And if it doesn't happen tonight?" 

"Then we probably have a fortnight to get ready for it or prevent her from casting the spell." 

Arthur shook his head, eyes wide in exasperation at finding himself so deep in magical matters. "Let's hope she needs the dark of the moon then. In the meantime, I have a council meeting. Arrange the defense for this evening. I'm sure Gwaine and Lancelot will help, if need be." Arthur pulled his keys from his belt and stalked through the maze of the vaults. "And wipe your face. You look like child who's just been scolded." 

"As long as I don't look like a sorcerer," mumbled Merlin, lifting his neckerchief to comply. 


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur walked into his chamber after the council meeting eager to hear how Merlin had arranged the magical defenses. But he stopped short, confused by the sight that met his eyes. The sideboard was laden with several pies, a hard sausage, a wheel of cheese, baskets of rolls, and a fruitcake. Hearing a noise in the antechamber, Arthur called sarcastically, "Merlin, are we having a party?" 

Cadby poked his head out of the antechamber. "Sire? Are the arrangements not to your liking?" 

Arthur frowned and walked over to the sideboard to give himself a chance to think while Cadby came fully into the room. Obviously, the younger servant assumed that whatever orders Merlin had given him had come from Arthur and Arthur didn't know what was going on. "It's a bit more than I expected," said the Prince, hoping Cadby would give him a clue without suspecting he needed one. 

"Oh," said Cadby, blushing madly and bouncing up on his toes as though he were about to take flight. "If it's too much, I can take some back and get back the money, I'm sure, Sire. Mother thought it would be about right for eight knights." 

"What does your mother have to do with it?" asked Arthur peevishly, trying to figure out why he was guesting so many knights in his quarters. Surely one of the dining halls could have been made available. 

"My parents run the bake shop in town," said Cadby timidly. "I probably did get too many pies, but I didn't know what kind you liked. Sire." 

"And the kitchen couldn't supply my needs because…?" 

"Because the cook's in a right old mood and doesn't take orders from me," said Merlin walking into the room, his arms laden with jugs of ale. "Fortunately the tap master's a bit more accommodating." Cadby immediately moved to help Merlin settle his burden, looking relieved to no longer be alone with his master. Merlin turned to him and asked, "Could you bring up a box of candles? If we don't need more tonight, we'll certainly have to change out quite a number tomorrow." 

"I already thought of it and brought a box to the antechamber," said Cadby, answering more confidently now that he was speaking to Merlin instead of Arthur. 

"Strawberries," said Arthur catching Cadby's eye. "I'm quite certain I specifically asked for strawberries and I know several flats arrived the other day. Go and tell the cook I want a bowl and if she won't give them to you, make it clear if I don't get them she'll be spending tomorrow in the stocks. I try not to take advantage of my position as Regent, but I shouldn't have to go through the Seneschal every time I want a snack sent up from the kitchen." 

Cadby blanched white and gave Merlin a pleading glance. Merlin made shooing motions at him and said, "Remember to stay out of arm's reach." Cadby skittered out the door. 

As soon as he was gone, Arthur grabbed Merlin by the arm and dragged him close. "You're supposed to be figuring out how to protect my Father, not planning a party," he hissed. 

"What do you think I'm doing?" twittered Merlin. "The spell's already set. I made a potion and Gaius gave it to the King as medicine. He drank it right down. I could only do a temporary, but it will hold for a day." 

"Then what is all this?" demanded Arthur, indicating the loaded sideboard. 

"Physical distance might make a difference in how much protection is possible. What better excuse to have your knights close about you at midnight than to invite them up to play some cards?" asked Merlin innocently. 

"If distance makes a difference, then I should be with my Father." 

"And how are you going to explain wanting to be in his room at midnight? Besides, he's right down the corridor. I've set everything up so it's as best it can be without having to make explanations to your father that he'll only completely reject." 

Arthur released Merlin's arm, pacing away from his servant and back. "That's what you do, isn't it?" he snarled critically. "The best you can as long as you can keep your secret." 

"Yes, Arthur, I do, because I've learned the hard way that it's no good to tell people what they can't accept anyway." 

The Prince turned his face away, a muscle in his jaw twitching in anger, and yet he knew Merlin was right. His Father wouldn't accept his explanations and if he tried the King would most likely resist his attempts to protect him. 

A knock sounded at the door and Elyan stuck his head in. "Am I early?" 

Arthur plastered a gracious smile across his face. "Not at all." 

Leon and Kay followed a moment later. Arthur glanced at his sorcerer (who was busy pouring out ale), thinking about their earlier conversation about proximity. "Sir Kay, a word?" asked Arthur, gesturing the red-headed knight away from his companion. 

"Yes, Sire," responded Kay gamely. 

"I hate to rescind an invitation," began Arthur and Kay pulled back slightly as if he'd been slapped. "But I need to you guard the King's chamber tonight." 

"Of…of course," said Kay, squaring his shoulders. "It will be an honor." 

Arthur laid a hand on the knight's arm. "I have a purpose in this, Sir Kay. I would not ask you without one." 

"Duty before pleasure, my Lord. Always," Kay assured him. 

"Good man," said Arthur, dismissing the knight with a rough pat on the arm. 

Kay shouldered past Gwaine in the doorway. "Drunk it all already?" teased Gwaine. "I would have thought Arthur could afford enough for a decent party." 

"Someone has to stay on guard," scoffed Kay heartily. "It's my night." 

"Hard luck," called Gwaine jovially. 

"You're not here to get drunk, Gwaine," admonished Arthur, though a smile softened the rebuke. 

"No, I'm here to win some of your lovely gold," replied the knight, rubbing his hands together in semi-mock greed. "When do we start?" 

The evening started cheerfully enough. Gwaine had thoughtfully brought dice as well as cards and the knights stuffed themselves on the provided treats and quaffed down pints of ale. But as the night wore on the knights exchanged wary glances more and more often and curtailed their drinking to the point of calling for water as often as ale. 

As midnight neared, Gwaine raked in yet another pot, coins clinking gleefully, and asked, "So what are we waiting for?" 

"You to count your winnings, obviously," said Arthur wryly. 

Gwaine left the coins uncounted in front of him. "Not that I'm not grateful for your contributions to my purse, you're not this bad at anything, Arthur, and if you were, you'd be chewing our heads off. You're distracted; waiting. Merlin ran that other servant off quick enough and he's as jumpy as…" turning in his chair, Gwaine narrowed his eyes, as Merlin attempted to avoid his gaze, "as if Morgana might attack at any moment." 

Arthur tried to laugh that off, but gave it up when no one laughed with him and five sets of serious eyes bored into him. 

"We should be on the wall," said Leon rising quickly. 

"No," snapped Arthur. Leon hesitated at Arthur's order and the Prince's mask crumbled into concern. "It's a magical attack, not an army. Merlin's set the defenses. All we can do is wait." 

"Not my favorite game," grumbled Leon, retaking his seat. 

"Any idea when?" asked Lancelot. 

"Midnight, if it comes tonight," replied Arthur, gathering the cards into his hands and beginning to shuffle. 

"So any time now?" asked Percival. 

Arthur nodded and looked away, catching Merlin's worried gaze. "Merlin! Pull up a chair. Gwaine is right. You're worrying yourself into a case of warts. No one defends well when they're that strung out." 

"I don't have any money," said Merlin, chewing on his cuff. 

Arthur moved a stack of coins from his pile. "There. Loose some of mine." 

"So confident," said Merlin mockingly. 

"Confident you'll be losing to me," affirmed the Prince. 

Gwaine stood up and moved his chair in front of the new stack of coins and went to get another seat for himself. "Every faith in your skills, mate, just not your luck at cards." 

"You know I could cheat, don't you?" asked Merlin of the room at large. 

"We also know you won't," said Lancelot, "at least not without a lot more on the line than mere money." 

"Money that won't be yours anyway, since you're playing with mine," teased Arthur. 

"Oh, in that case I don't mind losing a bit," Merlin huffed, but a smile teased at the corner of his mouth. 

Gwaine poured out a pint of ale and placed it by Merlin's hand. "One," he said, when Merlin looked at him askance. 

Arthur picked up the mug and poured half of it into his own. "Half of one," he said mock-seriously. "Merlin's a lightweight." 

The knights ooo'ed and teased, understanding the need to help a comrade shake off nerves before a battle. Arthur set the cards in front of Merlin and told him to deal. They played two more hands and Percival was raking in the winnings when the blow came. Everyone at the table jerked with the force of it, hissing or crying out in pain, tears streaming unbidden down more than one face, and Arthur fell from his chair, eyes closed. 

Merlin dropped from his seat to his knees beside his Lord even as the second blow hit; hard on the heels of the first, but only a shadow of its power. He shook Arthur by the shoulder but got no response. Merlin laid his ear on Arthur's chest, but heard only a faint stuttering of Arthur's heart and no breath sounds. Merlin sat up sharply and placed his hand over Arthur's heart. "Breathe," he commanded in an ancient tongue, his magic lashing out in a slap. 

Arthur took a sharp deep breath and then began to cough slightly. Merlin was reassured that the Prince began to pant faintly. He laid his head back on Arthur's chest and heard the Prince's heart settle back into a normal rhythm. The sorcerer sighed in relief. 

"He's alright then?" asked Lancelot anxiously. 

Merlin nodded. 

"The King!" cried Leon, hauling Merlin roughly to his feet and then the two of them were running side by side down the corridor, the knight pulling the sorcerer along. At the end of the corridor, Marhaus and Kay had their swords out, Kay on his knees, tears trickling over his furious face. "Get the door open!" Leon commanded as he ran. 

Marhaus dropped his sword and fumbled the key into the lock. 

"Something struck me," reported Kay. 

"Get Gaius," Leon ordered Marhaus, finally releasing Merlin as he pushed him through the door to the King's chambers. 

Sir Marhaus took just enough of a glance into the chamber to see the King collapsed on the floor and took to his heels. 

Merlin slid to his knees and laid his head on the King's chest just as he had with Arthur. He raised his head and reported, "His heart's stopped. He's gone." 

"Do what you did with Arthur," ordered Leon. 

Merlin laid his hand on the King's chest and commanded him to breathe. Uther inhaled a sharp deep breath, but it came out again in a rattle. 

"Again," said Leon, but without much hope. 

Merlin tried again, focusing his magic to give a sharp tap to Uther's heart, but again, the indrawn breath merely exited in a rattle. 

Behind them, Kay had managed to regain his feet, his bulk filling the doorway. "What happened?" asked the astonished knight. 

"Morgana," replied Leon dryly. 

Running feet sounded in the corridor, and Marhaus pushed his way into the room. "I sent a guardsman, he'll be quicker than my old bones. How bad is it?" 

"The King is dead," said Leon remorsefully. 

"He can't be," said the elder knight, dropping to his knees by his King. "We were on guard. We were just outside the door." 

"It was magic," said Leon. 

"What about Arthur's sorcerer? Couldn't he have stopped this?" demanded Marhaus frantically. 

"He devised a defense," said Leon grimly. "Arthur's alive." 

"Arthur," said Merlin coming to his senses. He rose quickly and raced back to Arthur's chamber. Sir Marhaus followed him, still breathing heavily from his run. 

Arthur was sitting up, leaning on his knees, being supported by the knights around him. He looked up at their entry, eyes large in his pale face. "Father?" 

Merlin froze. "I'm sorry, Arthur." 

"No!" shouted Arthur, as he tried to struggle to his feet. Percival and Elyan each took him by an arm and lifted him. Arthur had to lean on Percival once he got up. 

"Sire," said Marhaus, approaching the Prince, "perhaps you should not. I've sent for the physician." 

"I want to see him," snapped Arthur. "Your arm, Sir Percival." 

Percival proffered his elbow so that he and the Prince could walk arm in arm down the corridor, Arthur's steps steady, if slow. 

Marhaus bowed out of his way. Running steps ascending the stair interrupted their progress, Arthur pausing to receive whatever dire news this new messenger could bring. The guardsman who appeared hesitated, looking from face to face as if unsure who he should deliver his news to. 

"Speak!" barked Arthur. 

"Sire, the Court Physician has collapsed, I could not wake him," the guard reported. 

"Gaius?" asked Merlin pushing past them all. He paused to glance at Arthur. 

"You're dismissed," said Arthur maliciously. 

Merlin wasn't sure if he meant to attend Gaius or permanently, but there was no time to ascertain. He ran down the stairs, across the courtyard and up the tower steps to Gaius' chambers. The guard hadn't moved the old man and he lay where he'd fallen on the stone floor near the hearth. 

As Merlin dropped to the floor to check on his uncle, he couldn't help but notice the oddness of the situation. Gaius' legs were perpendicular to his body, as though he'd fallen from sitting position, but no chair sat near, a blanket pooled around the old man and the fire blazed in evidence that it had recently been built up despite the lateness of the hour. Two potion bottles sat at the edge of the hearth, not far from the old physician's hand. 

Merlin quickly found that Gaius was breathing, but he didn't respond when Merlin shook his shoulder and shouted for his attention. Merlin glanced around trying to think what would be best to restore the old man and realized that the two bottles laid out on the hearth were exactly what was needed. He frantically removed his neckerchief and dumped some of the contents of the first onto it. He held the cloth loosely over Gaius' nose and the old man began to cough. 

Gaius's eyes opened. Hoarsely he said, "Merlin. I was wondering if you'd have time enough for me. Arthur survived?" 

"He's fine. He will be fine. What happened to you?" asked Merlin concernedly. 

"And the King?" asked Gaius, making no attempt to rise. 

"Dead," said Merlin. "It didn't work." 

Gaius made a small hmphing noise. "Of course it worked, Merlin." 

"Uther is dead," repeated Merlin. 

"So you said," agreed Gaius finally trying to roll into a sitting position. Merlin helped him and settled the blanket around his shoulders. 

"Gaius, what happened?" asked Merlin again. 

"Really, Merlin," reproved the old physician. "After all you've studied trying to comprehend Nimueh's Spell, I have to explain that?" 

Merlin shook his head uncomprehendingly. "Yes?" 

Gaius sighed. "I was Uther's sorcerer long before I was his physician." 

Merlin stared at his mentor. "You were soul bonded to the King?" 

"Obviously." 

Merlin rolled his head at the enormity of his oversight. "So when Morgana's spell splintered, it hit you too. You could have been killed." 

"That was a possibility," said Gaius stretching his neck. "Could you hand me that restorative?" 

Still reeling, Merlin unstoppered the second bottle and handed it to his mentor. "I could have killed you!" he exclaimed. 

"Don't be melodramatic," grumbled Gaius, sipping the amber liquid. "My life has long been pledged to Uther's service. Losing my life to preserve his would have simply been part of the bargain. You should get back to Arthur." 

"He dismissed me," said Merlin morosely. "Maybe permanently, I don't know. The knights are with him." 

"Ah. In that case help me to bed. I'll want to check on him in the morning when you take him his breakfast." 

"You think he'll forgive me?" asked Merlin as he supported the old man to his feet. 

"For what?" 

"Failing!" 

Gaius sighed and settled into his bed. "If you're going to stay up and tear your hair for not being perfect, keep the fire up, will you? I've had enough of a shock that I could use the heat." 

*********************

Arthur slumped alone in a hard chair staring at his dwindling fire and hearing the echoes of the bells that had tolled his Father's death. Most of the populace would now know that some tragedy had befallen, but most would not know the enormity of the disaster until the town criers announced it at daybreak. Special messengers were already being chosen to leave at first light to carry the woeful news to outlying towns and villages. Sir Marhaus was making arrangements to have the King's body lie in state in the throne room for the next three days and for Arthur's coronation to take place four days after that. The elder knight had argued that it might be more reassuring to the populace to hold Arthur's coronation immediately, but the Prince held firm that Uther must be given his due honors and the people would only take haste for fear. 

Now, though, he'd driven off his knights, knowing he should sleep, but with no energy to rise and douse the candles or change for bed. A knock sounded at his door despite the late hour. "Go away," said Arthur dispiritedly. 

The door opened anyway and Guinevere entered, a cloak around her shoulders. "I thought I'd find you like this." 

Arthur looked up at his love through the fog of his despair and thought that now he'd be able to properly court and marry her. The thought gave him no comfort and instead felt like consolation for failing his Father. "Get out, Guinevere," he said dejectedly. 

"You need to go to bed, Arthur," she said, gracefully slipping her cloak from her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor beside her as she knelt at his feet. 

"I'm well aware of what I need," he grumbled. 

"Are you?" she asked reprovingly as she started tugging off his boot, her décolletage moving in all too interesting ways from his vantage point above her. 

"Guinevere," he said warningly. 

"You're going to bed, Arthur," she said firmly. 

"Morgana could attack at any moment," he objected. 

"If you believed that, you'd be on the wall. Besides which, Leon doubled the guard and has his best sentries in the towers looking for any movement. For all you know, the attack could come at dawn. A soldier sleeps when he can, Arthur." She yanked off his other boot and rose fluidly, holding out her hand. 

Reluctantly, he took it and let her pull him out of his chair and push him behind the dressing screen. He stripped off his shirt and socks and then noticed that nothing had been laid out for him. He complained, "I haven't any…" 

His pajama bottoms nearly hit him in the head as they landed across the top of the screen. "I noticed," said Gwen, a light laugh lacing her voice. 

Usually, he loved Gwen's playfulness, but tonight it only darkened his mood. Sourly, he called, "Thanks." Light faded as he changed and he realized she was extinguishing the dozens of candles that had been set up for the knights' visit. He peeked around the edge of the screen suddenly very much aware that the love of his life was standing in his darkening bedroom and he was only half dressed. That no top had followed the bottoms only showed that she was well aware what he preferred to sleep in. "Guinevere, please leave," he pleaded uncomfortably. 

"Not until I know you're in bed," she said firmly. 

He watched from behind the screen as she bent over his bed, turned back the covers, and fluffed his pillows, the lone candle by his bedside casting a halo around her body. He looked away guiltily, thinking what a betrayal it was for him to be ogling Gwen with his Father only hours dead. 

"I'm waiting, Arthur Pendragon," admonished Gwen. 

"You realize I'm King now, right?" he asked, chagrined, as he stepped from behind the screen. 

She curtseyed demurely, her head bowed. "I had noticed, Sire." 

He only managed to get past her because her eyes weren't directly on him. He slipped under his covers and laid his head on his pillow, keeping his back resolutely turned. 

She pulled the blankets straight over his shoulders, to tuck him in. 

"Gwen, please!" he begged sharply. 

"Sleep well, Sire," she said, the warmth of affection in her voice, then the light from the candle lifted and her footsteps retreated. 

At the click of the lock, he groaned and buried his face in his pillow which now carried a faint scent of rose water from the touch of her hands. Guiltily he realized he wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but it is time for Uther to exit the scene. This may not be a hero’s death, but he got that in the series, so… *shrug*


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur woke to the soft click of his door closing. He wasn't sure why the quiet sound had awakened him at first, though it was unlike Merlin to be so quiet in the morning. Arthur rolled over and sat up, and reeled with a wave of dizziness. 

"Slowly, Arthur," rumbled a familiar voice. "You've had a shock and I shouldn't wonder if you need some time to pull yourself together this morning. 

Arthur managed to lift his head, but it took him a moment to locate the old physician sitting at the table the knights had gamed at the night before. Cold leftovers still littered the sideboard and plates and mugs hadn't yet been cleared away. 

"You'll forgive me, please, for not rising, Sire," said Gaius. 

"Come to check on me, Gaius?" asked Arthur slipping his feet to the floor. Despising his weakness, he had to stop and take a breath before he could trust his legs to take his weight. 

"Partially, though Merlin is competent to report your symptoms." 

"Where is the lazy lump anyway?" asked Arthur walking slowly to join Gaius at the table. 

"Gone to get your breakfast, Sire." 

As he got closer, Arthur noticed how drawn and pale the old physician looked. It wasn't like him to stay seated in royalty's presence either. "What happened to you?" 

"You're as bad as Merlin," chuffed Gaius, "though you have a better excuse. I caught some of the backlash from your father. Sit beside me, Highness. I want to check your pulse." 

Arthur sat beside the old man and allowed him to take hold of his wrist, while Arthur examined his face. "You look worse than I feel." 

"I'm an old man." 

"Is that why Father died?" Arthur asked harshly. "Too old, too sick?" 

"Sicker than anyone knew," said Gaius, tilting his head knowingly and releasing the King. "Arthur, Uther didn't want anyone to know but the night he met Morgana in the forest, he had… an episode." 

"What kind of an episode?" asked Arthur dully. 

Gaius shrugged. "He was sweating, his heart pounding as though he'd run ten leagues. He insisted I give him something for his pain and tell no one. I was convinced I'd be attending a corpse in the morning. It rather surprised me that he made it through the night." 

"My Father was a strong man." Arthur turned away, nodding. 

"He was a strong man," said Gaius matter-of-factly, "who had had far too many shocks." 

"So the defense worked, it just wasn't enough to protect my Father in his weakened state," said Arthur dully. The King looked up at the sound of the door opening expecting to see Merlin, but it was Cadby laden with his breakfast. 

The young servant took one look at his sovereign already seated at table and nearly dropped the sausages off the plate. 

"Where is Merlin?" demanded Arthur. 

"Well, he's…" Cadby managed to point out the door with the pitcher as he tried to balance the rolling sausages. 

"Too cowardly to face me this morning," snapped Arthur. "Tell him to get his arse in here and then help Gaius back to his bed." 

Cadby took a step toward the door and then thought better of it and settled the dishes in front of Arthur before he fled out the door. 

Arthur watched him, despairing of ever finding a competent servant. Gaius levered himself to his feet and Arthur rose to take the old physician by the elbow to support him. 

"Thank you, my liege," said Gaius with an effort. "I can manage." 

"Nonsense," objected Arthur. "You're to go straight back to your bed and stay there. Merlin can take over your duties today." Merlin himself was suddenly on the old man's other side, also supporting him and watching his Lord carefully. Arthur frowned over Gaius' head, but made sure to impress his orders on the old physician. "I don't want you out of bed unless there's someone at death's door and then you're to stay in a chair, even if it's me." 

"Yes, Sire," acquiesced the physician as Cadby took the arm Arthur had been holding and led the old man away. 

Arthur continued to glare at Merlin, ignoring their exit. 

Merlin shifted nervously, putting his hands on his hips and dropping them again. "Sir Marhaus is already waiting to see you, Sire," he said, deferentially lowering his eyes. 

Arthur snorted and walked behind the dressing screen. "Mer-lin," he called, "if I have dignitaries already waiting for me, it would be helpful if my clothes were laid out." He heard his servant scramble to obey and clothing landed across the top of the screen. Arthur frowned and dressed slowly, stretching as he did so, trying to rid himself of the lingering weakness from last night's events and listening to his uncharacteristically silent servant moving about the room. 

When Arthur emerged, it was to find his servant watching him warily, looking for all the world as if he was poised for flight. Arthur shook himself, uncomfortable in his own skin. "My vest. It's cold in here," he said mildly. "Not that one," corrected the King as Merlin pulled a reddish brown one from the wardrobe. Ruefully, he added, "The black, it's more appropriate for mourning. And leather's never a bad idea for an uncrowned king, though armor's probably a wiser idea." 

"Your people love you, your Highness," said Merlin, helping Arthur into the requested garment. 

He started to step back, but Arthur stopped him. "Do up the laces for me. And since when do you get formal with me in the mornings?" 

"Since I'm feeling guilty for failing you?" asked Merlin, looking up at his master from under his lashes guardedly and with an ancient sadness inappropriate to his true age. 

Rocking up and back on the balls of his feet, Arthur asked in his command voice, "Did you do your best?" 

"I always do my best for you, Arthur," said Merlin finishing Arthur's laces and stepping back. "Obviously I'm not as strong as Nimueh was." 

Arthur took hold of his arm hard enough to hurt and looked directly into his servant's eyes. "Why? Because I'm alive and my Father's not? You made the connections I asked you to on short notice. I'm alive because I'm younger, stronger, and had more men protecting me, not because your magic failed. No, I think you're as strong as Nimueh was. What you lack is her training. I can't imagine trying to train to be a knight in secret, can't be any easier to train that way to be a sorcerer." Arthur released his servant's arm and seated himself heavily. 

Merlin placed a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder. "You should rest, Arthur. No one will think less of you…" 

Arthur interrupted sharply, "You don't get it, do you, Merlin? I'm the King. They said it last night. The whole 'the King is dead, long live the King' while I knelt by my Father's body feeling him stiffen in death. I'm in mourning but so is the whole kingdom and I need to be every bit the ruler he was from the first moment to reassure my people." Arthur scrubbed his face with his hands. "I need you to write something for me. I need to make a speech, show myself to the people. There'll be rumors that I didn't survive the attack either. I have to show them that they haven't been left leaderless with the enemy at the door." 

"I can do that," nodded Merlin, retiring to Arthur's desk. 

Arthur took a bite of sausage and chewed slowly, grimacing. "Food tastes like sawdust this morning. Leon said you had to bring me back last night. You didn't bugger it up, did you Merlin? Leave me in a half-life where my rotting flesh is going to start dropping off my bones?" 

Merlin rolled his eyes. "You didn't die, Arthur. You stopped breathing, but your heart still beat. All I did was make you take a breath. You did the rest yourself." Merlin cast his eyes down again. "Uther's heart wasn't beating. Maybe if I'd been closer to him… But then I might have lost you." 

"None of that," said Arthur sharply. "No what ifs. They tend to pile on top of each other and that road leads to madness. We did our best. Now we have to face this day." Arthur took another bite. "How many are waiting in the corridor?" 

Merlin took the quill in his hand and began to write as he answered, "Agravaine, Leon, and Marhaus so far, but Marhaus wouldn't let them wait in the corridor, he insisted on moving everyone to the audience chamber and he left Sir Peredur outside your door to direct anyone wanting an audience that way. Only Cadby and I are allowed in and no one is to knock. You can take all the time you need this morning." 

"Good," said Arthur, pushing the still full plate away. "Then do me a favor?" 

"Anything, Arthur," said Merlin seriously. 

"Eat half of this for me? I can't and I won't have the kitchen starting rumors that I'm off my food." 

Merlin smiled. "As if eating your breakfast has ever been a hardship for me." 

"I knew you pilfered," said Arthur fondly. 

*********************

Morgana snarled a denial at the mercenary captain who suggested they camp for the night. She wanted to get to Camelot and to her crown. If they arrived well after dark, so be it. The people would wake to find their Queen installed in the castle only a day after their King and beloved Prince had perished in the same night. That Arthur and Uther lay dead, Morgana had no doubt. Even splitting the power of the faerie's tear between them, they couldn't resist the power of an ancient spell that had no defense coupled with her magic. Or should have had no defense. Morgana shuddered with fury at the memory of the rebound she had felt; enough to knock her off her feet. She'd track down whatever sorcerer had managed that bit of insolence and take a year torturing the fool to death. 

A rider topped a hill well ahead of her and stopped to say something to Morgana's vanguard. The captain of that group of mercenaries waved the rider through, signaling to let him pass. Even at a distance, Morgana could identify the uniform as belonging to Camelot's guard, undoubtedly on the errand of bringing the news of the royal deaths to the villages of the realm. As the rider trotted up to her, she took in the set of his jaw, the flash of his eyes. The man undoubtedly recognized her, recognized the danger he was in, both from her and the long line of warriors clogging the road, but he knew his duty. Morgana smiled slightly, feeling generous toward the man who would give her the news she had waited so long to hear. She pulled her horse to a halt and waited. 

The man stopped his horse nearly nose to nose with hers and gave her no more obeisance than a bare nod. "Hail, Lady. The King is dead. Long live the King!" 

"What King?" demanded Morgana. "Who claims my throne?" 

The herald narrowed his eyes in disgust at her challenge. "King Arthur, of course, my Lady." 

Morgana's power lashed out, knocking the man from his saddle and across the road, staggering the horse he'd been riding. The horse trotted away, shaking its head. The man didn't rise. Morgana thought better of her action a moment later. "See if he lives," she commanded one of the men next to her. When her mercenary rose from checking the fallen armsman and confirmed that he still breathed, Morgana said, "Good. There were a few questions I forgot to ask him." She dismounted and paced across to the broken body determined to find out exactly what kind of condition her brother was in. Barely alive could certainly be rectified quickly. 

*********************

Arthur stood for a moment looking out over his subjects gathering in the courtyard below under a gloomily clouded mid-morning sky. He'd rethought his appearance while Merlin wrote his speech and had his servant dress him in his armor while they kibitzed back and forth over the wording. As heavily as it weighed on him, he wanted the people to see him as their protector in dark times. He could have worn his circlet or his own crown, but that felt too much like taking his Father's crown, which he wasn't ready for. The coronation would come soon enough. His red cloak floated behind him in the breeze, drawing the attention of the crowd. The relief from the crowd below at his appearance was palpable, as if those waiting had feared he wouldn't or couldn't come out to them. Arthur wanted to lean forward on the stone rail surrounding the balcony to be just that little bit nearer his people, but feared that might be taken as a sign of weakness that he could ill afford. 

Arthur looked around, catching the eyes of those below; a woman with tears in her eyes, another holding up her small child to see him, a smith who'd come from his forge still dressed in his leather apron and so many more. Arthur's voice rang out, "My People! Today we mourn the loss of our King, my Father, the Great Uther Pendragon. My Father fought magic all his life and it was a magic most foul that finally felled him. But take comfort, it is not a spell which can be repeated. Though the witch seeks out evil curses to wreak vengeance for our defense of our fair city, she continually finds they fall short of her intentions. There is no doubt that she planned to claim Camelot's throne once again, this time after ridding the kingdom of any other claimant. In this she failed." 

"My Father would have accepted the Lady Morgana had she chosen to return to his side. He offered her his forgiveness repeatedly and she rejected him with lies and deceit instead of the reasons which might have led to negotiations and their eventual reunion. And now she has committed patricide because he would not allow her to run rampant over him and the good people of this kingdom. Dark were the days Morgana called herself Queen. She would have you return to them. I will not allow that. Morgana is a Lady no more. For her crimes, I have stripped her of her title and the lands my Father graciously allowed her as a peace offering. Her life is forfeit to whosoever may take it." 

"I am not my Father, but I am proud to be his son. King Uther accomplished great things in his reign. Take these days of remembrance to dwell on the successes of our kingdom under this noble sovereign and look forward to the triumphs to come of which he has been the architect." Punching his fist into the air, Arthur cried out, "All hail King Uther." 

The cry came back to him from all around him, the people below as well as the servants, guards and knights within, "King Uther!" The cry repeated and broke as some in the crowd began yelling, "Hail Arthur!" Others picked up the call and Arthur waved in acknowledgement. He remained on the balcony only a moment more, though. This day still belonged to his Father, not to him. 

The elite swarmed around Arthur as he made his way to the audience chamber. "Well done, Sire," congratulated Sir Marhaus. 

"You've made the arrangements?" asked Arthur. 

"King Uther's body already lies in state in the throne room, Sire," responded Marhaus efficiently as they walked. "And the funeral arrangements will be ready for your approval by evening." 

"Good. See to it that Sir Kay is one of the pallbearers. For the rest, choose who you think my Father would most want." 

"Sir Kay? But, Sire…" Marhaus broke off at the look Arthur flashed him. Recovering himself, he said, "As you will, Sire." 

Arthur preceded the crowd into the audience chamber. Knights, Lords and Ladies followed him. Arthur took his place standing in front of the throne, as he had all during his Regency. From the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Merlin take his place out of the way behind him, ready at hand should his master call. 

Leon came forward first, looking as though he'd had no sleep, which was probably the case, to give a report of the defenses. He was halfway through when Agravaine cleared his throat, interrupting, "As important as the state of the alert is among the knights, Arthur, I think there is a more plaguing question." 

Arthur waved Leon aside, having heard enough already to know that the walls were more than adequately manned. "And that is…, Uncle?" 

Agravaine lowered his eyes and looked away a moment before meeting Arthur's eyes. "The question of how Uther died and how one may defend against a spell that can take a man even in a locked room. I heard you say just now that Morgana had performed the spell and that she wouldn't be able to do so again. I, and I think others present, would like to know how you know that." 

"I know that, Uncle," said Arthur coolly, "because the sorcerer Emrys was able to scry how Morgana came by the rare ingredient she needed for her spell and the price for that ingredient which she hasn't paid and will be unable to. Morgana has just bought herself some powerful enemies, who may well finish her off if I don't get to her first." 

Agravaine looked uncomfortable, "That's just it, Arthur. These accusations against the L…, against Morgana are made by another sorcerer, a sorcerer who himself had good reasons to want Uther dead." 

"Emrys has given me good reasons to be confident in his pronouncements, Uncle," said Arthur evenly. 

Agravaine blushed red and his hands gestured to emphasize his sincerity. "Of course, Arthur. I understand you believe in him and I trust your judgment completely. But there will be those who would question. So, allow me to play devil's advocate for a moment." 

Arthur fixed his uncle with a hawk eyed stare, knowing that Agravaine was trying to raise those doubts. But Arthur also could see the grudging agreement in the eyes of the nobles present and he preferred to meet problems head on. Better to hear Agravaine in the court than to have him whispering in dark corners. "Very well, Uncle. I'm sure you haven't thought of anything that hasn't been thought by half the court." 

Agravaine took a hesitant step forward, ignoring the dig. "The sorcerer Emrys has recently entered your service and seems to have come to enjoy your confidence quite quickly. Now that he has your patronage and protection, the only thing standing in the way of his survival was Uther. And now Uther has died while alone and under guard while Morgana was leagues away." 

Arthur frowned. "Firstly, Uncle, Emrys has been in my service for years. He has performed magic in my service since long before I was aware of his allegiance, including magic which saved my Father's life on more than one occasion despite the fact that Father would have murdered him for it had he caught him." 

"Murdered?" scoffed Agravaine gently. "I've never heard you refer to your father as a murderer before, Arthur." Uncomfortable murmurs whispered around the room. 

Arthur stiffened. "I thought it was clear that my Father and I had come to differ greatly on the issue of magic. Executing someone for the manner in which they saved one's life would certainly have been murder had he ever caught Emrys at it." 

"But we have only this 'Emrys' word for his protection of the King," Agravaine protested feebly. 

Arthur suspected his Uncle's weak arguments to be a ruse, to draw him out and paint him as a tyrant controlled by a sorcerer. "There are witnesses, Agravaine, who I have interviewed." 

"Ah, yes, Sir Leon," said Agravaine, turning to the knight. "Did you not say that you had witnessed such a rescue?" 

"I did," affirmed Sir Leon. 

"But you did not arrest Emrys for his magic at that time. Or had Arthur already granted his dispensation and prevent you?" asked Agravaine. 

Leon rocked once on the balls of his feet. "He didn't use magic on that occasion." 

"And yet, no one seems to know anything about it," said Agravaine. 

"I know about it, Agravaine," said Arthur warningly. "I was there." 

"And it was not you who saved Uther's life in that instance?" asked Agravaine innocently. 

Arthur smiled predatorily, "It was I who threatened my Father's life thanks to Morgause's machinations. I am profoundly thankful that I was prevented from carrying out her intentions." 

Snidely, Agravaine said, "Emrys seems to have a great deal of influence over you, Arthur." 

"It's not like that, Agravaine," said Gwaine, surging forward, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "If you want to challenge Emrys integrity, you can come to me. I'll be happy to serve as his champion." 

Lancelot and Percival quickly stepped up behind Gwaine, their hard-eyed stares at Agravaine making it clear that they would stand as Gwaine's seconds. 

"Enough," said Arthur disgustedly. "This is no matter for a challenge. And even if it was, Emrys doesn't need a champion like a maiden. He is perfectly capable of taking care of himself." 

"Then why doesn't he come forward?" asked Agravaine quickly. "Now that Uther is dead your sorcerer certainly has nothing to fear." 

"He doesn't come forward because I haven't given him leave to come forward," said Arthur firmly. "I will introduce my sorcerer to the court when I choose, Uncle. Not when you choose, or when Emrys chooses, and certainly not before my Father's funeral." 

"Of course not," said Sir Marhaus looking startled. "To raise a Court Sorcerer before King Uther's even had his funerary honors would be patently disrespectful." 

"To raise a Court Sorcerer at all..." began Sir Tremayne, alarmed. 

Sir Coel interrupted him, "Who said anything about raising a Court Sorcerer? No one said anything about raising a Court Sorcerer." 

"Sounds good to me," said Sir Gwaine. 

"Gentlemen!" interjected Arthur, his voice cutting across the sudden hubbub. "I've had no time to consider where Emrys fits into my Court. Clearly there are a number of decisions I need to make in the next few days and none of them do I wish to make in haste." 

"Very wise, your Highness," said old Lord Arundel, bowing over his cane. "As long as the defenses are sound, there's no reason to rush into decisions that will only need to be rethought later." 

"The defenses are in excellent shape, Lord Arundel," said Sir Leon irately, responding to the implied criticism of his Sovereign. "And I have never had cause to regret his Highness' decisions in battle where quick decisions are essential." 

"All the better to see to any magical vulnerabilities immediately," said Agravaine quickly. 

"Emrys is not a vulnerability," said Leon staunchly. 

"Perhaps not," agreed Agravaine, "but suspicion is. Perhaps it would be wise to allow the council to question the sorcerer, just to put any fears to rest." 

"No," said Arthur firmly. 

"No?" asked Agravaine. "Why ever not?" 

"Because there is no need," said Arthur, trying to keep frustration out of his voice. "If my word is not good enough for you, Uncle, I have half a dozen knights who know what happened and can attest to last night's events." 

Agravaine nodded smilingly, "Ah, then the council could question these knights?" 

Arthur tried not to grit his teeth. "No. Questions would mean specifics and specifics mean announcing Emrys' identity, which I've just told you I'm not prepared to do yet." 

"Surely, your council is trustworthy?" 

"My council is eminently trustworthy," grated Arthur, "and I hope trusts me enough to give me a few days to mourn my Father before taking up matters that will be highly controversial." 

"Lord Agravaine," interrupted Sir Marhaus as Agravaine drew breath to continue his criticism, "as a member of the royal council I assure you and all present that I think it unlikely the situation will deteriorate if we wait until after the coronation to take up this matter." 

"Indeed," agreed Lord Arundel, tapping his cane against the floor. "Sir Leon's already made his feelings known and I would bet Gaius already knows more of this matter than he lets on. Nor are you likely to get Geoffrey to side with you, Agravaine. If necessary we can call a council meeting to affirm that the council is satisfied for the moment, but you're the only one yapping. Let our young King alone until he has the crown on his head." 

Agravaine bowed to his peer. "Truly, I only meant to raise the doubts I've heard whispered so they could be discussed in the light of day." The Lord turned and bowed to Arthur. "My apologies if these doubts seemed to be of my own. I assure you, Sire, I have every confidence in your rule." 

Arthur inclined his head minutely, outwardly accepting his Uncle's words but he could see in the uncomfortable movements of his nobles that Agravaine's poisonous seeds had found fertile ground in more than one heart. Nobles would soon be pouring in from every corner of the kingdom for the funeral and coronation and those seeds would doubtless spread as though windborne. 

Calling Merlin forward was not an option. He'd already said that he would not introduce his sorcerer before the funeral and he had to stand by that or show himself as a man of uncertain opinion. Camelot needed a strong leader, not a flip-flopper. Clearly, though, the King wouldn't have much of a respite if he wanted to contain Agravaine's damage. Formally, Arthur said, "I thank you for voicing your concerns, Lord Agravaine. Please be assured that I will answer them soon." 

Agravaine bowed and stepped back, formally ceding the floor. Sir Leon instantly stepped forward to continue his report on the defenses, including the patrols being sent out around the city. Arthur listened with only half an ear. He felt confident in Leon's dispositions and could instantly see them in his mind's eye. He turned away for a moment and then turned back and responded to something Leon had just said to prove that he had been listening attentively. But in that moment he had seen what he was looking for; Merlin, looking decidedly green, back against the wall, trying even harder than usual to disappear into the background. 

*********************

Sir Marhaus hurried up the stairs from the kitchens. Really, one good thing about having a new King was that Arthur was likely to take a Queen in the next few years. Then she could arbitrate the squabbles in the kitchen. Marhaus mentally kicked himself for that thought, feeling himself a traitor to Uther's memory before his King was even put to rest. 

Marhaus nodded to Sir Tremayne as he passed him then groaned inwardly as he realized the other knight had been waiting for him and was now following him into his office. 

"You can't have meant it!" cried Tremayne. 

Marhaus looked the other knight up and down, from his short blond hair to his spit shined boots and remembered Tremayne as an excitable child. "As I always say what I mean, Sir Tremayne, I'm sure I did mean it, though it's possible that you're misinterpreting what I said, whatever it was." Marhaus loosened his cape and draped it on the rack attached to the wall behind his desk. 

"You can't want Arthur to name a court sorcerer!" 

Marhaus nearly came unglued at the accusation. "I… Did I encourage the King to name a court sorcerer? No, I did not! But it's clear that that's the path he's on, even if he hasn't realized it yet. And he needs to realize it, which is why I said it." 

"You sounded like you'd support it," said Tremayne accusingly. "You said things wouldn't get worse between now and the coronation if you just ignored it. You're giving the sorcerer an opportunity. He'll surely put Arthur under a spell before he's crowned if he hasn't already." 

Marhaus snorted and seated himself at his desk. "Arthur is grieving. He's not going to hear you. Maybe he's even grateful to the sorcerer for saving his life, which is what I think he believes. No, what is important now is to get the King to allow the council to question the sorcerer as soon as possible." 

"And what good will that do?" demanded Tremayne belligerently, leaning on Marhaus' desk on his hands. "He's got the King under his control." 

"We don't know that," said Marhaus sternly. 

"You don't know that because you're a fool," said Tremayne pointing at the other knight. 

Marhaus slapped his desk. "The council is made up largely of men who have had to do with sorcerers, especially Gaius, who used to be one." 

"Yes, I was warned about him before I came to court," said Tremayne pulling back and crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Gaius has taken care of the King for years, he's not going to let any harm come to Arthur and if the King is under a spell, it would be Gaius who would most likely break it." 

"Unless he's in cahoots with this other sorcerer already. Or maybe Gaius betrayed Uther and he is Arthur's sorcerer," said Tremayne throwing up his hands. 

"You're not the only one with that theory, Tremayne." Marhaus pursed his lips and looked away. "I doubt Gaius is Arthur's sorcerer, but if he is I'll be relieved." 

"Why?" demanded Tremayne. "A sorcerer is a sorcerer. They're all evil!" 

"I suppose that's what you young ones have been taught," said Marhaus, slumping slightly. 

Tremayne boiled over. "I am not a child, Marhaus! I've been a knight for fourteen years." 

"You were a child when Uther criminalized sorcery," said Marhaus looking up at him from under his lids. "Do you even remember seeing a magic show when you were a child?" 

Tremayne shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. "One. But that was before I understood that sorcerers are not to be trusted." 

Marhaus snorted. "I remember seeing battle magic. Mostly used against Uther's force for the defense of Camelot. He told me himself that it was just another way of fighting and that a sorcerer would still fall to a sword thrust." 

Tremayne sneered. "And now you think you're going to have that power for Camelot again?" 

"I hope so," said Marhaus calmly. 

"So you think you'll be able to trust Arthur's sorcerer?" asked Tremayne incredulously. 

"There is trust and then there is being able to work with a situation. No, I doubt I'll ever trust a sorcerer. I wouldn't want one of my own. But if Arthur has him sufficiently controlled, I could accept that." 

"Then you accept the doom of Camelot," said Tremayne, and with a swirl of his cloak he was gone. 

"Perhaps," said Marhaus quietly after the departing knight. 

*********************

Arthur finally managed to shake off the last of the visiting knights who just had to offer his condolences. At least he hadn't had to sit through a banquet. He'd take his supper in his quarters quietly until the funeral and wake in three days' time. He walked through the corridors nodding and smiling at well-wishers in a way he certainly didn't feel, finally escaping to his quarters. The room was empty - of his servants anyway. The tub had been set before the fireplace and was currently only about a quarter filled. Arthur stared at it. Well, it would at least be something to do that no one would dare interrupt him at. 

Merlin and Cadby burst through the door, each with a yoke over his shoulders and two full buckets slopping onto the floor. The two were panting slightly from their exertions and from their half-laughter Arthur had no doubt the two had made something of a race of the last staircase. But both sobered at the sight of the King. Cadby ducked his head in an awkward bow and poured his buckets into the tub. Merlin's eyes seemed to fill with sadness and regret as he followed suit. 

"Cadby," said Arthur, "finish filling the tub yourself. I have something else for Merlin to do." 

Cadby reset the yoke over his shoulders and left with a nod. 

"That's a lot of hauling, Arthur," said Merlin. 

"Yes, and you did it by yourself for years. You can start the water heating while we talk if it makes you feel better." Merlin held a hand over the surface of the water and Arthur snapped, "Not that way." The King rolled his eyes. "Use the kettles." 

"You know that will take all night, right?" asked Merlin, taking the first of two kettles hanging over the fire and pouring the contents into the tub. 

"Glad to see you're not shy about using your magic around me at least," said Arthur ironically. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Merlin, scooping water from the tub into the kettle and hanging it back over the fire. 

"It means today in the court you looked like a rabbit who'd scented a wolf and was about to run for all you were worth." 

Merlin's lips quirked in a grimace. "A rabbit? Arthur, really?" 

"Not even a wild rabbit with decent instincts - a little girl's pet bunny rabbit." Arthur tweaked Merlin's ear. "Definitely a bunny rabbit." 

Merlin squawked a protest and pulled away, rubbing his ear but smiling awkwardly. "That just… got completely ridiculous. I mean, I know you're not going to want a court sorcerer, Arthur, and I don't want anything from you." 

"You don't?" 

"No, of course not," said Merlin grabbing the second kettle to tip into the tub. "I've said it before - I'm happy to be your servant 'till the day I die." 

"Merlin…" 

But Merlin kept babbling on. "I just want you to be the King I know you can be. Fair and honest and just…" 

"Merlin…" 

"You're going to be a great King, Arthur. I just know you will." Merlin filled the second kettle and set it back over the fire. "You're great at getting people to see sense. The way you handled the crowd today; the people were scared and you reassured them - made them see that Morgana can't win all…" 

"Merlin! You really haven't thought about this much, have you?" 

Merlin stared at him, bewildered. "Of course I have, Arthur. It's your destiny." 

"I meant about your place in my reign." 

Merlin shrugged, innocently wide-eyed. "I'm here to help you, to do whatever needs doing. I always have." 

"Merlin." Arthur stepped closer to his friend. "If you want me to make magic legal, and I know you do, someone has to go first." 

Merlin shook his head uncomprehendingly. "I don't know what you mean." 

"I mean someone has to admit to being a sorcerer. Someone has to be the public face of magic." 

Merlin half choked. "Isn't that… I mean… people aren't going to want…" 

"I know you're scared," said Arthur, resting a hand on Merlin's shoulder. I've seen how afraid you've been when the knights found out and when Gwen found out, and especially when I found out…" 

Merlin interrupted, "You gave me reason." 

Arthur frowned at him, "and we're all your friends. To let the public find out? There are going to be people who are going to hate you for your magic, but someone has to go first." 

Merlin stared at his King. "If…if that's what you think is right, Arthur, I'll do it." He tried to laugh. "Better me than Gaius, eh?" 

"Not before Father's funeral," said Arthur, clapping Merlin on the shoulders before releasing him. "I'll tell you when. And I hadn't even thought about the whole court sorcerer thing." 

"I told you, I don't need…" 

"Well, I might," Arthur interrupted. "There are advantages and disadvantages to giving you an official place at court and I'll have to think them through." 

Cadby chose that moment to walk in bowed under the weight of his buckets. He glanced once at Merlin and poured out their contents and went out again without a word, though concern etched his face. 

"You see? Even he can see your fear," said Arthur as soon as the door had closed. "Probably thinks I'm sending you on an errand to the sorcerer. Apparently that rumor's getting around, according to Gwaine." 

"What rumor?" 

"That you're my go-between. That I'm using you to keep the sorcerer hidden." 

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Well that's ironic." 

"Isn't it?" Arthur chuckled humorlessly. "Unfortunate that it's not my sorcerer I'm sending you after." 

Merlin's mouth dropped open. "Wha...? Arthur, do you really think I haven't tried to kill Morgana?" 

"No. I know you have. I need you to succeed or tell me how the knights can." 

Merlin took a deep breath wondering how he was going to explain to his King. "There's a problem with that. There have been a lot of prophesies about your reign… a lot. And every time things don't go the way the prophesies say, something seems to interfere to bring things back in line. It's like I'm fighting all those prophesies to get anything done. It's like the weight of destiny is against me." 

Arthur's lip curled in a sneer. "So you're saying we don't determine our own lives?" 

"Not exactly," said Merlin washing his hands together. "It's like we are working within a framework and we can tug at some pieces and pull at others but some are going to stay whether we like them or not. Whenever I've used the Crystal of Neahtid to look into the future, I've ended up causing what I see to happen, even though I'm trying to not let it happen." 

Arthur crossed his arms over his mailed chest. "Merlin, I determine my life, not some chunk of rock." 

"Yes," agreed Merlin, "but don't your actions ever have unintended consequences?" 

"Sure," Arthur nodded. 

Merlin started to pace. "So I think that the destiny part is the unintended consequences of our actions because we are always going to act as the people we are." 

Arthur considered that. "By being true to ourselves we create our destiny? Which is predictable." 

Merlin nodded. "Yes, that sounds right." 

Arthur flourished a hand. "And Morgana is always going to act in a certain way which is also predictable, which should give you a way to kill her." 

"Not exactly," said Merlin, his eyebrows scrunching in thought. "It's more complicated than that. I had a chance to kill her once, well not exactly. It was an accident, you see? But all I had to do was nothing and she would have died. But I couldn't stand everyone's grief and so I saved her, even though I shouldn't have. It isn't just what Morgana will do, but what I will do, what you will do, even what completely uninvolved bystanders will do." 

"And then there's whatever Morgause may have left for us to deal with," said Arthur drily. 

"Might have been nice if Agravaine had at least let us know she was dead," said Merlin, stoking the fire under the kettles. 

The King stood and paced across the room. "He was probably holding that information back in case he needed to offer me a carrot. I'm sure he thinks I'm a right donkey." He turned back to his servant. "Maybe I should see if Uncle has any other carrots I can shake out of his pockets. Fetch him. Let's see if the snake rattles." 

Arthur had ensconced himself at his desk, looking over some reports that he'd previously read, when Agravaine arrived. Arthur dismissed Merlin without even looking up and left Agravaine standing, awaiting his pleasure. He heard rather than saw Agravaine shift from foot to foot. 

"My Lord?" interrupted Agravaine quietly. 

"A moment, Uncle," said Arthur without looking at him. He finished letting his eyes scan slowly down the parchment as though reading it before deigning to notice his Uncle. "Hmm." Arthur put the papers aside, steepling his fingers with a predatory smile. "Uncle. Why is it there was never anything about Morgause' death in your reports?" 

Agravaine raised his hands and dropped them again. "I never saw her. Morgana never mentioned her. There wasn't anything for me to report." 

"And that didn't strike you as odd?" 

Bafflement played across Agravaine's features. "I counted it as lucky. She surely wouldn't have welcomed my visits." 

"And you never thought to ask Morgana about her?" 

"I just never thought about it," Agravaine assured Arthur. "You've… never seemed to think it odd before. What's put you on to it now?" 

Arthur's lips quirked up a bit at the edges. He leaned toward Agravaine conspiratorially. "Emrys and I were having a little conversation about destiny." Arthur could see the calculations behind his Uncle's carefully blank look. 

"Oh. He was here?" 

Arthur stood and stalked around his desk. "Emrys is closer than you think, Uncle. And he doesn't like you." 

"So he implied," said Agravaine clearly unsettled. 

Keeping his voice low, private, he intimated, "Morgana will not protect you, Agravaine. She'd sacrifice you at the first opportunity." 

Agravaine shifted uncomfortably and bowed his head. "I swear my allegiance is only to you, my King." 

"Then tell me about Morgause," growled Arthur moving away from his uncle. "How did she die?" 

Earnestly, Agravaine assured him, "As I said, I've neither seen nor heard anything of her, my Lord." 

Arthur picked up a small sealed jar from his desk, rolling it in his hand. "And if I were to ask Emrys for a potion to ensure you could tell me nothing but the truth?" 

"It isn't necessary, Ar…Sire," stuttered Agravaine. 

Arthur dropped the jar back onto his desk, crossed his arms across his chest and stared into his Uncle's eyes. 

Agravaine looked away first. "Morgana never said anything about Morgause… directly. Now that I turn my mind to it, there were… omissions, changes of subject, nonsequiturs that suggested that Morgause might not be in the picture anymore. If she were badly injured, I believe Morgana have would have nursed her herself. So I would conjecture that Morgause most probably died before I was permitted to attend Morgana." 

"That's unfortunate, Uncle," said Arthur coolly. "I was hoping you'd be able to give me some information about what she might have been planning before her death… anything she might have passed on to Morgana we should know about." 

"There may not have been anything, my Lord," said Agravaine deferentially, but more confidently. "I mean, if she died right after you defeated her and rescued Uther, she may not have been able to pass on any plans to Morgana." 

"Perhaps," allowed Arthur. "Think well on what I said, Uncle. And if there is any more information you can sift out of your memory, it would be wise for you to bring it to me at once. You may go." 

Agravaine bowed and turned to go, his jaw working. 

Arthur called him back. "Uncle." He strode forward and held out a hand to Agravaine. Agravaine took the offered hand and Arthur grasped him by the forearm with his left. "If you ever again pull what you pulled this morning, you will be lucky if I do no more than banish you to your estate." 

Agravaine straightened up and returned Arthur's stare. "Emrys must have quite a bit of influence over you to make you suspect me so thoroughly." 

Arthur shoved Agravaine's arm away. "Tell me, Uncle, has it occurred to you that your protection just died?" 

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Agravaine, but his breath sped up. 

Arthur's voice deepened with extreme menace, "Father promised Mother he'd look after you. You may not have been satisfied in the way Father fulfilled that promise but please note that it is a promise I have not made." 

"Arthur, we're family," gasped Agravaine. 

Arthur snapped, "Then act like it. With one side of your mouth you tell me you support magic and with the other you try to get the entire court to believe that Emrys holds me under his spell. Why shouldn't I think that when you say you support magic you actually support Morgana?" 

Agravaine nodded and looked at the floor as though embarrassed. "I don't know Emrys and your father cultivated enemies among the magic folk." He gave a small chuckle. "And isn't that an understatement? How can one not hate what seeks to kill you for no other reason than that you exist? Uther wiped out whole families. I can't help but be suspicious of a sorcerer who would willingly attach himself to your father's son." Agravaine apologetically looked into Arthur's eyes. "I was out of line this morning, Arthur. I suppose I deserve some rough treatment at your hands. But you needn't threaten me." Agravaine bowed low. "My King." 

Arthur continued to glare at Agravaine until the door shut behind him. The door to the antechamber opened. Without looking to see who was there, Arthur said, "Well that didn't get us anywhere, but it may make Agravaine more cautious of me, which is all to the good. I can't have him undermining me where everyone can see. Bad enough to have him whispering in corners." 

Scowling, Merlin said, "Agravaine's so crooked I think he could manage to twist the truth so that we'd hear lies even if I did know how to brew a truth serum." 

"Work on it anyway," snapped Arthur. "Sounds like magic that could actually be useful." 

Stung, Merlin swallowed hard against biting back. Instead he laid a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder. "I'll add it to my list." 

Arthur stared down at Merlin's hand. "Don't get maudlin on me. I still count on you to tell me when I'm being an ass." 

Merlin squeezed Arthur's arm before letting go. "Be sure that I'll tell you any time you forget it." 


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin was ascending the stairs the next morning on his way to wake Arthur, grateful for the numerous windows in this part of the castle that let in so much of the still faint dawn light, when the warning bell reverberated through the walls. Merlin raced the rest of the way, but Arthur was already dragging a shirt over his head by the time Merlin crashed through the door. 

"What is it?" demanded Arthur, gesturing toward the armor chest, even as he hopped on one foot pulling on a sock. 

"I don't know," responded Merlin, hurriedly fetching Arthur's armor; readying his Lord for whatever battle the warning bell foretold. He'd only just dropped Arthur's chain mail over his head when a guard appeared breathless in the doorway. 

"Sire, the Lady Morgana is at the main city gate with a contingent of men," the guard gasped. 

"How many?" snapped Arthur, as Merlin buckled his belt around his waist. 

"Hard to tell, Sire. Many of them are staying in the trees. The Lady is just sitting on her horse waiting, my Lord." 

"And no one's taken a shot at her yet?" demanded Arthur, grabbing up a sword and settling it at his side. 

"She's kind of back in the trees too," replied the guard as Arthur brushed past him, not waiting for any more of the useless report. 

Arthur joined the throng of knights and armsmen racing through the streets to the main gate, Merlin at his heels. Craftsman and wives peered with frightened eyes out of windows and doors as they passed. Arthur barely slowed to mount the stairs leading to the top of the wall at the gate. At the top, Leon blocked his way, keeping him away from the outer edge of the wall. Arthur turned furious eyes to his knight and would have said something he would later regret if Leon hadn't immediately launched into a quiet, concise and useful report. 

"Morgana's half hidden in the trees, as are an estimated three to four hundred men. The front rank are bowmen and they'd love to get a shot at you, Sire. I'm quite certain. She doesn't have the men to take the city, so I'm not sure what she's doing here. She couldn't even lay an effective siege. Whatever she wants, don't play into her hands." Leon paused for a breath and Arthur nodded shortly, realizing that his haste might have done exactly that. "She's put something in front of the gate. I think you should take a look at it," said Leon, turning and allowing Arthur to precede him. 

Arthur advanced to the crenels near to the gate and scanned the treeline, quickly spotting Morgana on a dark brown stallion. Trees were kept cut back away from the walls to the distance of a long bowshot, so as not to give an enemy cover. An expert bowman might make a shot from there to the wall, but it wasn't likely that many of Morgana's men were nearly that good, nor could many of his men shoot accurately enough at this distance to take a chance Morgana. And even if they could, if Merlin could drop a crossbow bolt with his magic, Arthur had to assume that Morgana could as well. Once he was satisfied that the danger was not immediate, Arthur looked for the object that Leon had mentioned. Sitting in the middle of the road only fifteen yards from the front gate a large stone had been dropped. Sticking up from the middle of the stone shone a sword that any king would be proud to wear at his side. Arthur heard Merlin huff in irritation behind him, but ignored him. 

Movement caught Arthur's eye and he looked back to see Morgana advancing, though she still didn't come close enough to afford most of his bowmen a decent shot. 

"How do you like my present?" called Morgana mockingly. 

"Is that what it is?" challenged Arthur. 

Morgana tossed her hair insolently. "For your coronation, dear brother. A reminder that magic will always defy you. That sword is filled with ancient magic. I've used the sword's own magic to bind the stone so that it can't be moved as long as the sword is sheathed within it. Even I can't draw it. Everyone entering or leaving Camelot will see this sign of your limitations and know that you are not worthy to be King." 

Arthur balled his fists in frustration. Behind him, Merlin snorted in amusement. "What are you snickering at, Merlin?" hissed Arthur, wishing he could get his sorcerer alone for a moment to figure out how he intended to remove this obstacle to his rule. 

Merlin's eyes went round and he looked off into the sky as though half in a daydream. "I think you should draw it, Sire," he said, nibbling at the cuff of his jacket. 

Arthur's eyes narrowed at Merlin's vapid expression. Merlin might play the idiot, but he wasn't one. Arthur glanced to his right and left, assessing who he should take with him. "Leon, command the wall." 

"You're not really going out there?" asked Leon. 

Arthur smiled a dangerous smile. "It would be rude of me not to examine my gift," he said ingeniously. "Percival, Lancelot, Elyan, Gwaine," he called as he started moving and the knights called fell in behind him. "Kay," he added, motioning behind him for Kay to come up with him. Kay scrambled down the stairs after the others. Arthur turned and waited for him. When he was close enough for Arthur to give his orders privately, Arthur murmured, "Morgana won't stay to fight today. This is a political move. Find someplace to observe where she goes when she leaves." 

"Yes, Sire," snapped Kay smartly, his shoulders thrown back in pride to receive special orders. 

Arthur motioned for the portcullis to be raised and walked out leisurely, his knights fanned out to both sides of him. He kept his eyes on Morgana, who returned his stare. When he reached the sword, he examined it, trusting to his men to watch for any aggressive moves. Morgana had said that the sword held ancient magic, yet it looked as though it had just been taken from the forge. It glimmered with golden runes down both sides of the blade and a silver sheen that marked it as being made of the finest tempered steel. The handguard bent slightly toward the blade, seeming wing-like. No jewel graced the pommel and yet it looked to be of a size to balance such a blade perfectly in his hand. The wood insets in the hilt, wrapped in golden metal would surely be easier to grip than metal alone and the size of the grip looked to Arthur to be perfect for his hand. 

Arthur wondered what trap Morgana had set using such tempting bait. He hesitated a moment, hoping Merlin had considered the possibility before telling him to draw it. But only for a moment. He set his stance, preparing to pull the sword from its imprisonment smoothly; he'd not be seen tugging or straining, either it would come freely or not at all. And it did: effortlessly, naturally, just as though he'd pulled it from a well oiled scabbard, the sword came free. Arthur held it up, watching the blade glint in the sun, pleased to see the previously hidden part of the blade lived up to the promise of what he'd been able to see. 

Arthur looked again at his sister, who's gaping mouth indicated her level of shock that Arthur should have been able to draw the blade. "Magic serves me, Morgana!" he called. "But you should already know that. Have you ever seen me? You claim I'm nothing but Uther's copy, even though I've helped you when I thought Father was being unfair. Good God, Morgana! Why couldn't you have come to me? Together we might have changed his mind. He loved both of us." 

"Uther never loved me!" screeched Morgana, raising her hands to send a blow across the distance. 

The knights saw and dived, as Arthur knew he should, but some instinct kept him upright, turning the sword edge on to the blow. He felt the magic strike the blade and part, its force expended around him, barely ruffling his hair in passing. 

Morgana saw and wheeled her horse, returning to the relative safety of her men, signaling for a barrage of bolts from the bowmen. But the bolts had barely flown ten yards before their flight bent, as if following some unseen curved road in the air, and turned back towards the authors of their flight. 

"Take her!" commanded Arthur and knights leading platoons of guardsmen flooded out the gate in response. But Arthur, Percival, Gwaine, Lancelot, and Elyan were far in advance. 

*********************

Sir Leon stepped forward instinctively as his King charged the enemy line, which screamed in response and stormed forward, eager for a chance to spill the King's blood. Raising his sword the knight called out, "Archers, at the ready." He heard rather than saw the archers take their stances, knights interspersed with common born armsman. "Loose!" he shouted releasing his bolt into the chest of a mercenary whose raised mace could only be meant for Arthur. 

Bolts slammed into the mercenaries as Arthur and his guard met the enemy lines. Blades flashed dealing death, Lancelot and Gwaine on either side of their King, winnowing the enemy like wheat. The blade Arthur had pulled from the stone fairly glowed in the King's hand as he skewered enemy after enemy. 

"Reload!" commanded Leon, though most of the archers were already scrambling bolts from their belt quivers. Blue flames suddenly erupted along the top of the ramparts, causing the archers to fall back a step, more than a few crying out in surprise and fear. The flames danced and leapt along the battlements, obscuring the battle and keeping the archers out of the fight. As Leon took his step backward, he felt a hand between his shoulder blades, as though to prevent him from crashing into someone, and heard a deep voice hiss furious incomprehensible syllables practically in his ear. It was only by the strongest control of his will that he prevented himself from instinctively elbowing Merlin in the gut hard enough to stop his spellcasting. Leon ground his teeth, realizing the sorcerer was using him for camouflage. The blue flames died away, but the archers hesitated to approach the ramparts, murmuring uncomfortably among themselves. 

Taking a firm hold of his own dread, Sir Leon called out, "Fear no magic! The King's Sorcerer is with us and he is greater than the witch!" Leon felt Merlin's startle as he pulled his hand away from the knight. His grim rush of satisfaction at that and at seeing the archers return to the wall faded into frustration at being unable to consult the sorcerer about what assistance he could offer even as the knight called out, "Ready! Loose!" 

The bulk of their forces had met Morgana's while the archers were distracted. The battlefield was quickly filling with fallen bodies though few of the corpses wore Camelot's colors. The city's forces had surrounded the mercenaries on three sides and were winnowing down Morgana's forces. Arthur hadn't advanced any further, the press of the battle coming to him, but he struck and parried with all the grace and energy of performing dancer rather than an embattled swordsman. 

Morgana sat back in the treeline, her arms raised and her mouth working, her concentration solely on Arthur's position, though it was doubtful she could actually see him through her soldiers. 

Damn it! They needed Merlin in this fight, not hiding who he was. "Prepare to fire on the Lady Morgana," ordered Sir Leon. 

"She's too far, Sir!" protested the nearest archer. Sir Kirkley glared at the back of the man's head from down the line and grimly plucked another bolt from his belt. 

"Try it anyway," commanded Leon. "Maybe Emrys can give us a hand with that." Even as he sighted his target, thoughts raced through his head about how they were going to have to work on Merlin's offense and how they could coordinate with him. The rest of the line grimly sighted, awaiting Leon's order. The knight felt a hand rest lightly on his back once more and an unintelligible string of syllables once again hissed past his ear. "Hold. Hold." Fingers jabbed into his back, a signal, not a shove. "Loose!" 

Bolts thwacked out of their stocks. Leon dropped his bow to his side as he watched the flight sail straight at Morgana. She saw that they would reach her only when they were quite close and threw up both hands with a scream. That the bolts tumbled away from her had to be instinct on her part, Leon was sure, for she hadn't time for a spell. The witch fell to the ground, her horse wheeling and jumping over the fallen sorceress in its fright. For one moment, Leon thought she might have been hit, but she struggled to her feet and stumbled away, retreating. 

A few of the mercenaries saw and fled in any direction possible. Others noticed their flight and followed. Suddenly, the battle turned into a rout with soldiers cutting down mercenaries as they fled. 

"Regroup!" bellowed Arthur, and his call echoed across the battlefield. Soldiers fell back toward the walls instead of following the retreating but much reduced force. "Victory!" roared Arthur and every soldier of Camelot on the ground or on the wall thundered the cry. 

Leon looked toward the spot where Morgana had disappeared and then looked around to catch Merlin's eye, but the King's sorcerer had vanished as well. 

*********************

Morgana stumbled away from the lost battle, her feet slipping on the still dewy grass, fully conscious that the soldiers would be hunting her soon. Worried they might set the dogs after her, she headed straight for the river, hoping to find some peasant's rowboat tied along the bank. The cool of the morning couldn't account for the icy chill that spread through her limbs, freezing her and freezing her thoughts. Her mind whirled through a maze of ice. Arthur had a sorcerer on his side. A very powerful sorcerer. She'd heard. She'd seen traces of his power, but she'd never faced it directly before. She'd wanted to believe that Arthur had compelled some hedge witch to serve him in return for her life, but this was no reluctant minor power. 

Gaius might have managed the countering effects she'd encountered up until now, he certainly had the scholarship. She'd considered the possibility that, in fear of her, Arthur might have turned Gaius far enough to get him to take up sorcery once again in his service despite Uther's condemnation. She'd investigated that possibility as well as she could but her sources informed her that though Gaius had great knowledge, he had little actual power at his disposal. He might be able to build effective defenses or break a curse given adequate time, but she was convinced he would be nothing against her in a battle. 

This sorcerer she had just faced had doused her flames and boosted the flight of arrows. That took power available on the instant as well as knowledge. Emrys was real and a real threat to her. But how could he serve Arthur? Arthur had been more than just complacent about Uther's war on magic, he'd adopted it wholly. He'd raided Druid camps, captured and murdered sorcerers whether they'd attacked Camelot or merely been trying to live their lives peacefully. One small instance of pity in the case of the Druid boy a few years ago hardly made up for the deaths Arthur had been responsible for. The Prince might be willing to make use of magic, but he'd never free it. At best, Arthur might allow a few sorcerers to survive as a hidden arm of his military. Yes, that she could believe. Arthur had been raised to wield power; it should be no surprise that he would seek it in any form. 

Behind her she heard a woof of surprise as someone slipped in the damp grass. Doubtless some watcher set by Arthur to prevent her escape. She smiled grimly. In a moment she might have a hostage, though hostages could be bothersome. Perhaps she'd merely leave a corpse as warning not to follow. Or maybe this one would have information on the elusive Emrys. Whatever the man was, she'd take him once she found a means to cross the river in case she did decide he was worth hanging on to. 

As she passed out from under the trees she sighted along the river and noticed a skiff tied up to a tree overhanging the bank only a hundred or so yards up the river. She headed toward it and stumbled again, purposely this time. Let her pursuer think her more badly injured than she was, it would bring him closer. She placed a hand at her side and started to pant, playing the part of the wounded bird. And there, now she could hear his step faintly. She spun, throwing out power as she threw out her hand. 

The knight, just barely out of the trees, lifted into the air and landed on his back. He groaned and held his head, turning onto his side and trying to rise. Morgana pulled a dagger from her side and flipped it at him, stopping it sharply in front of his face. The knight stilled, staring nearly cross-eyed at the dagger hovering before him. She strode toward him with queenly grace, frowning. The unfamiliar knight was tall and stocky with red hair and beard. She scowled. She had hoped for one of Arthur's inner circle, someone who would know who Emrys was. 

"Did you hope to die for my brother?" Morgana asked haughtily. 

Defiantly, the knight answered, "To die for his Majesty would be an honor." 

Morgana's eyes narrowed. "I grant your wish," but a branch struck her dagger out of the air even as she flicked her hand to send it into the knight. Morgana glanced around in horror. "Emrys?" she shouted. The knight scrambled up and barreled toward her, but once again she threw him back with her magic. The knight seemed stunned though he was still conscious and trying to rise. She might have admired his constitution, more renowned knights had died from such a blow, but right now he was nothing more than a wounded animal she could use as a bargaining chip. She called her knife into her hand even as she ran to the downed knight. She grasped him by the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled back, exposing his throat and laying her blade across it. "Come out, Emrys!" she called, scanning the trees. "Come out and let's have a fair fight or I'll kill him." 

"No!" cried the knight. 

"Quiet!" growled Morgana menacingly. 

The sound of footsteps drew her attention back to the trees as a slender figure dashed between them, slipped and then scrambled behind an oak. 

"Merlin?" shouted Morgana. "You utter twat, I see you there. Come here, Merlin," she purred. "I'll trade. You for him. You'd make a better hostage anyway. I doubt this one is worth the trouble to bring him along." 

"I'm worth more than a knight?" called Merlin. "You flatter me, Morgana." 

"Arthur's pet? His messenger to his sorcerer? I won't even kill you when I'm done with you, Merlin. I've already bartered that privilege for something better." 

The knight screamed, "I'd sooner die!" and tried to push himself to his feet despite the knife at his throat. 

"Be quiet!" repeated Morgana, reversing her hold on her dagger and bringing the hilt down on his head with all the force she could muster. The knight sagged forward. 

"Alright, Morgana," said Merlin, stepping into the sunlight. "I'll trade, but only if he's left alive." 

"Come here, then. Come on," crooned Morgana, still scanning the forest for any sign of Emrys. "You can see he's only stunned." 

Merlin walked toward her slowly. She waited until he was only a step away before dropping the barely conscious knight and straightening in one lithe movement to seize the servant by the arm and bring her dagger up against his back. "I can catch the knight another day," she hissed quietly. "Let him feel his failure. You are going to tell me everything I need to know to find the traitor sorcerer. Move." With a flick of her chin she indicated the direction of the rowboat. 

They made their way to the river slowly, Morgana still watching for any sign of her enemy. Merlin had just stepped off the bank and into the boat and Morgana was about to follow when a dull weight struck between her shoulder blades. Her glance landed at once on the object that had struck her, an all too familiar looking knife, one she knew to be enchanted against her magic. Had Arthur now supplied them to all of his knights? "You!" Morgana growled, sending a wave of power to flatten the knight struggling once again to his feet. 

Even as she saw him fall, the first droplets struck her and she looked up into a frothy wave towering over her. She screamed and covered her head with her arms, dropping her weight to help her stand as the water crashed over her in a torrent. She expected its force to be expended in a moment, but the water enveloped her, tearing at her and finally knocking her from her feet, all of her breath already expended. The water dragged at her, pulling her under before the force finally released her in the current of the river. Her lungs ached as her feet touched the stones of the river bottom. Desperately, she hauled her arms through the water over her head, reaching for the sunlight she could see playing above her. She kicked against her heavy skirts, letting the current have its way, knowing it would carry her away from her prey, but her only quarry at the moment was air. She managed to breach the surface long enough to snatch one grasp of breath before her skirts dragged her down again. Once again she dragged herself to the surface, letting the steady current send her where it willed. This time she managed to stay up long enough to catch a glimpse of where she was going. Up ahead she could see a tree that had fallen into the river, creating a natural dock she could use to crawl out of the water if she could only reach it. She kicked hard in that direction. 

Her hand knocked against rough bark and she scrabbled for a hold, finding one on a sappy branch half broken from its parent. Her feet brushed a stone on the river bottom and she found herself able to stand with her face tilted up, waves washing her face. She spit the water she couldn't keep out of her mouth, but she managed to keep it from her lungs. Taking a breath, she ducked under the water and under the branch, coming up that much closer to the shore and finally able to struggle onto the sand. She collapsed with the water lapping around her thighs and dragged herself higher to remove her shoes. 

The rowboat she had put Merlin into floated past, empty. She looked up the waterway for any sign that the servant might have fallen in himself. Far up the river, at the end of her vision, she saw a glint of metal heave in the sunlight and trundle into the forest. She kicked her feet in frustration. She'd seen enough brown next to the metal to be certain that the knight was being borne back to Camelot by the prize she'd promised the Shidhe. 

*********************

The cheers continued all around him even as Arthur glanced around to ascertain which of his men were well and which might need tending to. Many of those on the wall boiled out the gates to swell the cheering crowds. Sir Peredur helped Sir Galton to his feet, blood flowing freely from a wound on the young knight's forehead. Sir Coel reassured his younger brother, Sir Kirkley, that the gash on his arm was nothing and would heal well enough. Kirkley still tore a strip from his tabard to bind his brother's wound. Arthur ordered those who had been assigned patrol to get after the remains of the mercenaries. They'd cut the force Morgana had brought with her by more than half and the retreat had been so disorganized Arthur doubted those left would be much of a challenge for his knights other than simply finding them. Camelot's dungeons would soon be bursting with the survivors who couldn't run and graves would have to be dug for those who would never rise again. The uncrowned King continued through the crowd accepting congratulations and looking for his wayward servant. He'd have expected Merlin to come to him with the knights that had left the wall, to ascertain if he was hurt if nothing else, but Merlin was conspicuous by his absence. 

The crowd was thinning now and quieting, attention drawn in other directions, when the crack of a slap rang out. Arthur's head snapped toward the sound as did the attention of many near him. Sir Kirkley's hand was on his face as he backed away from his brother's anger. Sir Coel advanced after him with his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword, shouting, "Fool!" 

Arthur strode quickly to the brothers. "Sir Coel! We fight the enemy, not each other." 

Coel blanched at Arthur's interference. "Sire, I was simply reminding my brother to be vigilant in the face of magic." 

"Magic that assisted our side!" argued Kirkley. "Didn't you see those arrows turn?" 

Coel looked from Kirkley to Arthur, chewing back his words, before he burst forth, "He didn't save King Uther." 

Arthur frowned and stepped up to Coel, taking the knight by the shoulder. "Because he couldn't, not because he didn't try." 

"He boosted our arrows too," said Kirkley enthusiastically. "Another ten yards at the least. I'll say it again, I like working with a sorcerer. I don't know what he'll do next, but I'm happy enough to have surprise on our side." 

Coel took a half step towards his brother despite Arthur's restraining hand. "Surprise is the problem. You never know what a sorcerer's going to do. They're not knights, they're not even armsmen." The knight turned to his sovereign. "Arthur, an army has to be made up of men who can count on each other as close as brothers." 

Arthur's hand tightened on Coel's shoulder. "And yet I just saw you at blows with yours because you didn't like what he said." Arthur addressed the quieted multitude around him. "It's true that we must be able to trust one and other. You'll get your chance to train with Emrys and any other sorcerer I might hire." 

"Other?" demanded Sir Tremayne shrilly. "Do you mean to give this sorcerer command of his own army? Arthur, you can't, you just can't expect us to kowtow to some sorcerer!" 

"No one's expecting that, Tremayne," said Arthur, holding up his hands in reassurance. 

"Like goes to like," insisted Tremayne. "It's been Camelot against magic for years and now we're supposed to welcome in a bunch of turncoats? How do we know they won't turn again and on us?" 

"There is no 'bunch,'" emphasized Arthur. "There's only Emrys and I vouch for his loyalty." 

"And how do we deal with Morgana?" asked Tremayne. "Will you go soft on her too?" 

Thunder crossed Arthur's features. He straightened to his full height and stepped toe to toe with his belligerent knight, staring him down. Giving weight to every syllable he stated, "Morgana killed my Father." 

Tremayne examined the stone in Arthur's gaze for a moment before dropping his own. 

Arthur began to pace the circle around him. "I see fear in your eyes. Fear of change as well as fear of your enemies." Knights straightened at this accusation. "You fear that I am not as strong as my Father and can't lead you as well." 

"That's not true, Arthur," said Gwaine catching the eyes of those around him. "You've led Camelot for months already and to victory more than once." 

Murmurs and nods agreed with him. 

"Magic still threatens this land," reproached Tremayne sulkily. 

Arthur could feel the tension rising and knew only quick action could relieve it. Arthur drew his sword and raised it in front of his face. The company fell silent. "Sir Leon, approach me and kneel." Arthur had toyed with this idea and it suddenly felt right. Something would have to be done anyway and a reward to a deserving supporter at this moment would shut the doubters' mouths. 

Leon dropped to his knees before his Lord, his head bowed, the crowd staring curiously. Arthur would have preferred to wait until after his crowning for it should be a crowned King who bestowed such a reward, but as Regent as well as the anointed heir he had the authority to do this now. "Sir Leon, as you do not fear magic, we have a job for you to do." Arthur touched each of Leon's shoulders with the flat of his sword. "Arise, Lord Glestin." 

Leon could not hide the surprise in the wide eyes he raised. 

Arthur sheathed his sword. "I'm certain the previous inhabitant has left some nasty surprises in her former estate and I know she terrorized her people and those of neighboring estates for the short term of her residency. I have no doubt she's left you plenty of problems and that's if she does the decent thing and clears out." 

Leon rose to his feet. "Better if Morgana doesn't. The manor at Glestin is hardly defensible. We could take her there easily." 

Arthur nodded. "And she knows it. No, Morgana won't wait for us there. It's the city she wants. And the throne." 

"Any chance I could borrow Emrys at some point to check over Glestin for curses?" Leon asked half-facetiously. 

Arthur grinned. "I take it he did well for you on the wall?" 

"Yes," agreed Leon, "but we can't continue to keep him hidden like that. It's bloody hard to communicate with someone you can't talk to." 

"I've noticed," harrumphed Arthur, watching Kirkley clout his brother on the arm with a self-satisfied smile. A hallo from up the rise called his attention. "What on Earth?" asked Arthur as Merlin trundled over the top of the hill, sopping clothes clinging to him, with Sir Kay's arms slung around his neck, the knight's feet dragging behind him and his head lolling beside Merlin's making them look like some weird two-headed turtle. Knights moved aside as Arthur stepped toward his servant. "Merlin! Have you no sense to preserve a knight's dignity?" he called, hiding his concern. 

Gwaine guffawed quietly, "We are talking about Kay, right?" 

"Dignity?" protested Merlin, pulling up, his breath heaving, Kay's head bobbing on his shoulder. "Should I have left him for Morgana then?" 

"Is he alive?" asked Leon, concerned. He strode forward to take the knight from Merlin. 

Arthur gestured at several of the knights to join Sir Leon. "Gentlemen?" The knights lifted Kay up to carry him to the castle prone between them. 

"Alive, yes. He put up a good fight," said Merlin, wiping moisture out of his eyes. "But he could use some knife throwing practice. He struck Morgana with his dagger, but with the hilt not the blade." 

"Wouldn't worry about that," said Gwaine, shifting his grip on Kay's legs. "If there's one thing Kay's good at it's berating himself. I'll happily bet he'll be at target practice before Gaius lets him out of bed." 

"Merlin, why are you all wet?" asked Arthur distastefully, but as Merlin started to answer, he amended, "Nevermind. Please tell me Morgana's in no better shape." 

Merlin hemmed and hawed, "I don't know. The water took her and she was in the river, but she was swimming the last I saw. Not very well, but it looked like she might make it out on the other side…" 

"Spare me," said Arthur, rolling his eyes but looking forward to getting an accurate account of the battle he was certain had taken place for once. "Go get cleaned up. You can't attend me dripping all over the floors. And find me a scabbard worthy of my new blade. Beautiful, isn't it?" he said, drawing the blade once more. 

"Seen it," whispered Merlin, with an impish smile. Louder, he said, "Yes, very beautiful, my Lord." 

Arthur suspected there was a story there he'd need to hear once he had the leisure to drag it out of his servant, but for the moment he merely called for horses for himself Leon, Lancelot, and Elyan so they could check the river for signs of Morgana. 

*********************

Agravaine peered over his brimming goblet. The room hung in black but the guests were boisterous with toasts to the deceased, boasting of Uther's accomplishments far more than they ever had during his life. Agravaine simmered in disgust as another Lord raised a toast to the empty seat at the head table and Arthur, seated beside it, acknowledged the compliment to his parent. 

In three day's time, that seat would be empty no longer and Arthur would wear his father's crown. In three days' time this same lot would be toasting Agravaine's nephew as the new King, once again passing over the rightful prince. If he could have thought of any way to rid himself of Uther's child, Agravaine would have done it. He wouldn't hesitate, he told himself. And yet, he did hesitate. He hesitated to initiate any plan that might have resulted in his own death. The risk of getting caught outweighed his desires. Agravaine was a careful man. It was how he survived. 

Arthur had found little trace of Morgana at the river and a hunt had so far proven fruitless. Agravaine's plans might be all in ashes due to the silly girl's overreaching, but she was alive and might be useful in the future. So he'd wait for her to contact him, for surely, he was her most valuable ally even as she was his. 

Waiting might not be his favorite passtime, but it was his most practiced art. Agravaine had played his part of supportive uncle during the funeral, standing by his nephew solicitously as he lit Uther's pyre, but Arthur had plenty of subjects to suck up to him at the wake. He wouldn't miss Agravaine over much. Sickened by the display of phony sentimentality, Agravaine pushed back his chair and took both goblet and pitcher back to his room to drink himself senseless. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So credit where it’s due – I was having a hard time coming up with how I was going to have Merlin fight Morgana without her realizing it was him when [texasfandoodler](http://archiveofourown.org/users/texasfandoodler) posted some illustrations for a story called Ebb and Flow, one of which showing Merlin manipulating water. While it isn’t at all an illustration of what happens here, it did inspire the scene, so I wanted to say thank you!
> 
> _Next chapter:_ In The Public Eye
> 
> It’s Arthur’s coronation day and he’s done with keeping Merlin’s secret.


End file.
